


Panic Room Season 2: Had You Worried, Didn't I?

by Avianahelena



Series: Panic Room Player Diaries [2]
Category: Panic Room: House of Secrets
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-28 05:46:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 100
Words: 27,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2721011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avianahelena/pseuds/Avianahelena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the same foul-mouthed, dirty-minded badness, now with added ghost-seeing powers!<br/>And some angst and depression, because, you know...months of captivity.</p><p>Oh, by the way, SPOILERS ABOUND. Sort of. It's not as though I actually explain things in a way that can be understood by people who haven't experienced them yet, but...still pretty spoilery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day...?

Day...?  
So. I'm alive again. I wondered, for a while, if I should let go.  
But I suppose I should have had more faith. They want me here, so here I am. Right now, it hurts enough that I wish I wasn't.  
It was strange on the other side. I could see the ghosts and their world. I spoke with them...but at the same time, I kept getting glimpses of this world. Jim running himself ragged to save us...Jenny pleading with me to wake up...Tan and Ryan stepping in to help. All interspersed with memories--or dreams--of helping Jenny search for holiday sweets.  
They were always gone when we got to them. I wonder if my subconscious was trying to tell me something. If so, it needn't have bothered. I know it's all pointless. But what else can I do? I can't leave them again. Jim is killing himself, and Jack... Jack's already dead. One of our ghosts--the main one, I guess; calls himself the "elder"--is keeping him tied to this world, but only barely, and it's costing Jim.  
Doc looks like shit. And he's losing hope. Begged me for my help...doesn't he know by now I'll do anything for him?  
Or at least I'm going to try. P's pissed, like he doesn't even realize this is his own fault. But I have to talk to him anyway. If Jim can't get through to him, and Jenny can't sway him, then it's up to me.  
I'll let you know how it goes. And explain things a little better, I guess. It appears I've missed a few days in my record-keeping. Fear not, dear reader--be you thief, snoop, or...successor. I won't leave you in the dark. Every scrap of information I can remember will be yours.  
God knows why I think you need it. It's brought me nothing but grief.  
...

Day 118, Nov.10--late:  
Well, it's been a hell of a day and I want to go to bed. But I've slept long enough, and besides: a promise is a promise. Even if I'm only talking to myself.  
Ryan fetched me out of my room on one of his crazy whims. He told me to come to the basement with him if I wanted to know why he watches the house.  
This is me. I don't like him, but I want to know EVERYTHING, so I followed him. I am so freaking easy to kidnap...I don't even understand why P. drugged me to get me into the house. Waste of chloroform.  
Anyway, Ryan searched the basement so thoroughly I started to think we might even find the weirdly-elusive Jack (no such luck). When he found the gigantic hole in the wall, though, it made me jump. At first I thought Jack dug it, and I was SO going to go in there and cuss him for not keeping me in the loop. But Ryan grabbed me before I could go. He went in himself--hole was booby-trapped something terrible, and I hadn't seen Jack recently enough to stop my guts from kind of folding in on themselves with dread.  
It didn't really dawn on me at the time, but I'm a little suspicious of Ryan saving my ass there. He went in, collapsed that hole, and said "now there won't be unnecessary deaths." Is it just me, or does that seem like NOT something Ryan Force would ever care about?  
Fishy. But I digress.  
I didn't question Ryan's sudden un-Ryan-like altruism because I was busy battling nausea and trying to get away from Ryan so I could go find my friend on the camera feeds. Normally I don't use the feeds; spying on people makes me feel kind of dirty. But Jack is a special brand of stupid and he's paid in the past for my failure to search him out.  
So I was on my way to the attic, but Jim caught me in the hall. I started to blow right past him--or drag him with me, since it's HIS brother that went missing for the hundredth time. But Jim, being a Fairwood, managed to completely derail me before I could even open my mouth to tell him what MY problem was.  
He wanted to confront the Puppeteer.  
He wanted to CONFRONT the Puppeteer with what we've learned.  
I just about lost my shit. Jim has put himself in very dangerous situations just by opening his mouth. No way was I letting him do this. Except, well. Short of killing him myself...how could I stop him? So I settled for not letting him go alone. I thought he was in more immediate danger than Jack. I was wrong.  
Jim went into the living room. I followed him and passed the test like usual--it's disturbing how good I've gotten at solving puzzles quickly while distracted and having to avoid painful mishaps. How I managed it this time when all I wanted to do was leap on Jim and TAPE HIS STUPID MOUTH SHUT...I guess I'll never know. I didn't do anything, anyway. I never do. I just stand aside and watch the train wreck. I finished my test and stood by the living room door like a coward, silently begging Jim to be careful what he said. So when the door blew off its hinges, there I was.  
Knocked me out cold. Knocked me out of the world of the living...into the fog.  
It sounds dramatic, I know. But this stupid ordeal has been cinematic from the start. Horror. Suspense. Action thriller. Supernatural drama.  
If I see any hint of RomCom, it's over. Emily left me a rope. I swear by everything I hold dear I will USE IT.  
...It was like those dreams where you know you should wake up, but your eyes won't open and you can't move. There were voices in the fog. But I was alone.  
Stupid bastard. Jack gets us both killed and then doesn't even have the decency to come with me. Probably since I never thought about it seriously before, I didn't fear it...but when you're really there and it's really happening, dying alone is the scariest thing in the world. I had no one. Jim was at his brother's side, P. behind his cameras. No one else in sight. Just voices in the fog.  
Then the ghost showed up. He called me "burning one" and didn't even have the decency to break that old ghost-mystic cliche about speaking in the vaguest possible terms about EVERYTHING.  
He wanted my help with something. That I understood. Someone needs my help, so I don't have to think about Jack blowing up the front hall and probably being dead. Someone needs my help, so I don't have time to worry and waffle and be useless. Off I go. Don't worry, random stranger. YOUR problems I can deal with.  
The ghost is a druid named Arlene. Yeah, I don't know. I think something got lost in translation there. Nothing the dude ever said made sense. But he made a decent guide. He led me around the other world--sort of a limbo where places from the past are superimposed over the rooms I know in the present. It's the ghosts' world--Arlene refers to it as the 'surface of Sidhe.' He said all the ghosts there that can't move on are a burden on the "Elder," who's trying to keep even more people from dying.  
Started to sound more and more like a curse to me. Sure enough, there are four original ghosts who basically turned the land this mansion is sitting on into a super-duper ultrafun DEATH SPOT.  
I'm not clear on what exactly the druid did to fuck up the natural order and contribute to the cursedness, but the maiden at the well--Alastriona--was a sort of priestess-liaison for the faeries. She's kind of a bitch, to be honest. And I think her 'mistake' was just that--she's a bitch, so she fucked up her duties and now she's cursed to hang out at her well in the ghost world for evers and evers, making people miserable when they have to talk to her. I had to jump through so many hoops just to get her to make a potion so I could SEE everything properly, it was almost like being back in the living world with the Puppeteer.  
Seeing is...not very pleasant. The 'cold world' can't be accessed by those who still possess the warmth of life, so to see it, I have to 'cool down' my eyes. They still feel weird--like someone put drops of ice water in them.  
It was worse in that world. I could feel myself starting to slip. At first I kept drifting back and forth, and I could see everyone: Jim trying to save Jack. Jenny panicking. Tan taking charge and keeping Jim from killing himself to save Jack. Ryan being a dick as usual. But over time those glimpses stopped happening as often, and I felt colder and colder. I was afraid I'd lose my chance to go back. I thought if I stayed gone too long, I'd slip away entirely and then I'd be dead. I didn't want to die. If I died, then I wouldn't be able to make up for any of it--not checking up on Jack sooner. Not stopping Jim from distracting the Puppeteer. Not investigating Ryan's half-assed warning more thoroughly.  
But then, isn't that how ghosts are made? When you have so much you feel like you still need to do that you just refuse to move on, but the way back is closed and after a while it's too late and the way forward is gone too.  
So I had to force down the panic and trust this random old dead dude I'd known for like two days. We forced the Maiden to remember her mistakes and make me the cold-potion so I could see. Then I met Filida, the singer who clearly never heard the tale about Orpheus. She was supposed to live, but she didn't--she broke her harp and gave up her voice, and even the cold-hearted maiden, Alastriona, felt sorry for her. The fourth, Willem, the warrior--his story is the most straightforward to me. He fought the Romans until the Romans won, and in his anger he cursed his gods and defiled sacred ground. Never a good idea.  
So the ghosts are cursed, and the land they lived on is cursed, and people have been dying here for centuries because of it.  
At least it proves Tan right. If we can help the ghosts, we can help the living too. She said the person who purified the house would have to believe in his strength and his right. Well, the ghosts asked me themselves. I think that gives me the right. As for strength...we'll see.  
When Arlene finally let me go, I woke up in the nursery with Tan sitting next to me, calling me back. Because I think we're living in a bad movie anyway and I might as well get in a few tropes I actually LIKE, and because I'm me and my brain just works this way, my first thought was "you should totally lay a big ol' kiss on the first person you see" and I rolled with that. I think I shocked poor Tan half to death.  
She recovered admirably, though. I'm envious of her composure. I'm never that calm...always bitching about something or doing that stupid fake nod-and-smile thing when people tell me their life's story like I should know what to say.  
God, I'm tired. And my body hurts. Everyone living or dead keeps implying I wasn't hurt badly and that I wasn't in any danger of dying for real, but I distinctly remember being hit by a freaking maelstrom of door fragments and I HURT, thank you very goddamn much. Just because I'm not in suspended animation with half my bones shattered doesn't mean you can expect me to run around like nothing happened.  
I probably don't look as bad as Jim though. Jim is scaring me. He's letting that ghost kill him, little by little, just to keep Jack from sliding that last inch or so into death.  
I want to tell him it's not worth it. He thinks it's his fault but it's not. I have explained this to P. in FINE detail. It's not Jim's fault. Jim isn't the one who brought us here. Jim isn't the one who thought it would be a MARVELOUS game to feed Jack scraps of a BOMB SCHEMATIC to taunt him. Jim isn't the one who miscalculated so thoroughly that his picture belongs in the Fuckup Hall of Fame with the caption "does not take sneak-thieves or recovering amnesiacs into account when hatching diabolical plans." JIM is not the one who gave me a scrap of said bomb fragment expecting that it would not fall into Jack's hands, and JIM is not the one who proceeded to steal it from my room (thanks Chester, you're such a great help). And finally, Jim is not the one who fell for the trap hook, line, and sinker, despite having been burned countless times before. He's not the one who can't stop for a single second to think about his safety or what it'll do to the other people in this house when he finally goes too far. He's not the one who wants his fucking FREEDOM so badly that he doesn't care who he hurts to get it.  
But you know what, it's just one more thing to swallow down. Just one more thing won't kill me, right?  
Shit. I just want to kick their asses so badly. Jack and the Puppeteer. They're just the same. But Jim asked me for my help, and if Jim asks me to do a thing then stand there and laugh if I tell you it won't get done. I talked to Leonard, the 'elder' ghost who saved Jack...sort of...partway. The power he's drawing from Jim won't last and when it's gone both Fairwoods die. The end. All this misery for nothing. But try getting that through P's thick skull.  
Our gracious host has been in a temper since the blast and Jenny says he's been punishing everyone in the house. For HIS. FUCKUP. So when he called me out to pass a test in slow motion to 'teach me patience,' I took that time to explain to him in the clearest possible terms exactly what needs to be done about this situation. Oh, I was polite; I'm not entirely stupid. But the Puppeteer set this up, and Jack set it off, and now everybody is paying. If P. refuses to help save Jack, then all he's doing is killing them both for his mistake. Then who will run things in this house? Jenny? The drunk, Bill? ALICE, for fuck's sake? I'm sure as hell not going to do it.  
And I can't expect him to listen. That's the worst part. He's safe behind his little cameras where he doesn't have to believe we're real people if he doesn't want to. I can't reach him. I only have words, and I can't be sure the words I used are the right ones. I can't be sure they're sharp enough. To move someone like him, they'd have to cut to the bone. And I do not have that kind of power, Feather or no.  
...I've gone on too long and explained nothing, helped nothing. I'm going to sleep. When I wake up again I'll take another swing at that brick wall between P. and reality.  
...


	2. Day 119, Nov. 11th

No, I didn't sleep. Who do you even think you're reading here. Jim can't sleep, so why should I.  
Tan searched me out today. She couldn't take it anymore. Ryan is content to imitate his master and just sit back to watch us die, but Tan has limits. She wanted me to tell her about the other side, because she had an idea about helping Leonard so he doesn't have to take as much from Jim.  
I've wondered if perhaps we're making this too complicated. Leonard draws energy in the form of emotions...guess who has plenty of THOSE right now.  
Well, all the time, but especially now.  
But I can't afford to be staggering around half dead like Jim, so maybe Tan's idea is smarter. I've shown her Alastriona's well--she can see now, if only a little. And, appropriately, she's revealed her true name: Isami. Tan is a nickname bestowed by the Puppeteer...IS she the previous Feather?  
It doesn't matter. There are more pressing issues. We stepped into the circle of stones and asked Willem the Warrior to give us some token of his feeling: something Leonard could use. Willem gave us his anger. The maid Alastriona told us about her hatred, which she buried with someone...that will be tricky to find. We don't have this kind of time.  
Luckily, P. seems to have pulled his head out of his ass a little...either that or someone crawled far enough up there with him that he actually heard something they said. I found some surgical instruments in the house. P says there are more. Jim was amazed; said those instruments are only sold in specialty shops and the Puppeteer had to have bought them specifically to help Jack. He asked me how I convinced him...how stupid. Most likely our devoted captor had been searching for tools already, before I even woke up. He can't just let the Fairwoods die. They're the last hope he's got.  
He's still being a dick about it. He can't just be human for the thirty seconds it would take. He's hidden these things well. Very well. And today he even had the gall to ask me how much blood I would shed to save them.  
ALL OF IT, you stupid son of a bitch.  
...


	3. Day 120, Nov. 12th

Had a long talk with Chester today. The little shit is completely unrepentant about his role in all this. He's sure the bomb would have worked if they'd had a good battery, but it failed at the last second because Jack--in typical Jack fashion--forgot to think of the obvious and check all his goddamn equipment before trying to use it. So, since it should've worked and since Chester doesn't feel responsible for Jack's idiotic decision to sacrifice himself by setting off the bomb without using a timer, Chester refuses to even apologize for stealing that scheme fragment from me.  
It's all so infuriating. The Puppeteer obviously meant to give Jack an incomplete schematic just to taunt him--he never thought Jack could get hold of all the pieces or actually manage to find or rig the parts to build a bomb. Giving me a fragment in that puppet was just part of the game--an amusement, probably, just so he could see if I'd ever find out about the bomb and offer my piece to help Jack. Even with my piece, the scheme would have been incomplete. Chester says he'd never have found the essential piece if Jenny hadn't felt bad about Jack's latest depression (turns out the ciphers in the fairy tales were just another taunt from P; Jack should have seen that coming) tried to remember something...and wound up remembering that they'd used a piece of a diagram to repair a book once.  
Just a stupid unlucky break...and now all this grief.  
God, I'm so angry. And dizzy. I'm making Chester help me search the library while I recover a little. Dramatic declarations aside, I can't spill the last drop of blood. Not yet. I can't die not knowing if the others will make it.  
...


	4. Day 121, Nov. 13th

My vision's sort of swimming. And my hands don't feel like mine. It's sort of like being drunk. Except with more images of books imprinted on the backs of my eyelids.  
I haven't slept since I came back from the other side. Probably that didn't help me find it any faster. But I've got it--one more instrument, one more sliver of hope.  
But P is distracted again. Wants me to find some specific room in the house, but won't give any hints beyond "ask around." At least after getting the brush-off from Ryan, I finally understand why P's so pissed at me, specifically. "Loyalty." Ryan's been as closed-mouthed as he can get, ever since he got here. Me...well, sorry, P. My loyalty lies elsewhere. You should understand that. Who has earned it, anyway? My captor...my killer? Or the people who've helped me survive you?  
Hell, maybe that's not even what he meant. Didn't I turn on Jack and leave him to his own devices? Wasn't I too focused on that next little bit of information...but the Puppeteer has no right to begrudge me the knowledge now. He fed it to me himself, bit by bit. He can't hand me the book and then be angry that I read it. I'm sorry I spoiled the ending, John, but I waited for you to tell me not to. You know I'd have kept my mouth shut if you asked. I do have enough respect for the dead to honor their requests.  
...


	5. Day 122, Nov. 14th

Okay, I'm a little confused. Not that that's unusual. I might have misjudged Ryan. Not that me misjudging someone is unusual either. He's as bad-tempered as usual, stalking through the house snapping at everyone who dares exist too loudly in his presence...rummaging through Jack's things...and sort of implying that he's building something that could help.  
I hope he's trying to help. Ryan is a jackass, but he's clearly very clever and if he decides to help then the Fairwoods might actually have a chance.  
...I wonder if he likes cookies.  
...


	6. Day 123, Nov. 15th

I finally had to crash. Slept badly, but what can you expect. I keep dreaming about ghosts and broken puppets. I keep getting up to move to the living room only to chicken out again. I keep having to remind myself that I won't find anything useful if I bleed out while running P's stupid tests.  
You'd think my current state of near-vampiric bloodlessness would help with Tan's and my search of the ghostly realm, but no. I'm having problems 'locating' the druid's crypt again. I know where it SHOULD be, but I can't touch it. Tan's not having any better luck.  
So I'm focusing on Ryan's little errands and praying he's a better person than he pretends to be, and I'm playing P's little game hoping it's winnable. Wish me miracles.  
...


	7. Day 124, Nov. 16th

Dreamt I followed Jack into the Underworld. There were the usual prohibitions, and I failed them of course--when one is stuck in a myth, one is required to fail. He told me something vastly important that I can't remember now and it's been bothering me all day. Probably if he dies it'll nag at me forever.

I FOUND IT. I FOUND THE THING.  
This is how I would probably react if I knew what the fuck exactly Ryan wanted me to find. As it is, I finally ran across something that looked like it could be salvaged for useful parts, Ryan reacted with about as much enthusiasm as you'd expect from someone of Ryan's disposition, and I received as recompense the fabulous gift of Ryan's Super-Useful Advice.  
He wants me to give more thought to that control panel P. gave me, because P. "doesn't like it when his clues are ignored."  
Well if he doesn't want to be ignored, maybe he shouldn't let his games get so far out of control that his own puppets upstage him. Just saying.

Poor Jenny. We walked into the attic a bit ago to find Ryan surrounded by junk, welding some parts together...and for just a second...well, you know who it would remind us of. Jenny was upset.  
Poor me, too, I suppose. I miss him.

God, what time is it? What DAY is it? Still the 16th...I need to sleep, but then how could I look the others in the eyes and tell them I'm doing everything I can?  
Besides, I'm making progress. Tan helped me find another surgical instrument, but P. got rather caustic about it. Said "the need to save life has poisoned everybody in the house."  
Poisoned. Well, someone like him would think that way, wouldn't he?  
...


	8. Day 125, Nov. 17th

Tan found a part Ryan had asked me for. She's almost like a different person now...calls me "blood sister" and seems to actually give a damn about what happens in the house. She sent a message to Ryan that "there is no Tan anymore." He says he'll take it into account that she's fighting again. I wonder when she stopped. Is this what she was like before?  
I'm after yet another component for Ryan, but he says P has turned it into a test. Our Puppeteer is a damned fool. Stupid child, always clamoring for attention.  
...


	9. Day 126, Nov. 18th

Desperation. It isn't pretty. I've been tearing through the basement looking for any hint that might resurrect Arlene's crypt from the fog. My meditations take the form of tests, performed over and over with ritual precision, but the pieces come together too slowly. I take my turn like the others sitting with the Fairwoods in the living room--Jack's eerie stillness and Jim's constant teetering on the edge wear on my nerves so badly but I can't refuse. Besides, there's P's stupid test to worry about. Ryan can't be expected to run it himself.  
Damn, I wish most of my friends weren't either half-dead or half-useless. Jenny's not used to the tests, Jim can barely keep himself alive let alone search the house for scattered shit, Chester has conveniently disappeared, and a lot of my factional friends have nearly bled themselves dry trying to keep up with P's demands recently.  
...Wait. Chester disappeared. SHIT. Time to go search out the little bastard. Can't have it on my conscience if the son of a bitch is actually dead.  
...


	10. Day 127, Nov. 19th

I think a few of the others have a touch of the Sight--they were able to help. The Druid's a bastard to try to catch, but he did help a bit in the end. He's offered his fear...I'm afraid it'll be a while yet before we can find it. Dammit, Tan's idea won't do us any good if we can't do it QUICKLY.

Bless Filida. She's such a help, even when my eyes are nearly too warm to see her. She's found the Druid's fear for us, and even pointed the way to a cache I'd almost missed while tearing the room apart for pieces of Ryan's device.  
Speaking of Ryan...I need to think of a way to get Leonard out of the attic for a while. Ryan doesn't want thanks for what he's doing, but a few minutes away from that prattling ghost probably wouldn't go amiss.

Oh, right, Chester. Well, I don't think he's dead. Turns out he's been trying to deal with the current...shall we say "anti-Fairwood" sentiment among the factions. Seems like Jack was in more trouble than I'd realized in the days leading up to the explosion. We always knew Alice was a nut case, but it never occurred to me to worry about Jack...well, beyond worrying that he'd scheme his way into an early grave. Which turned out to be a legitimate concern. But I digress. Chester's spying and sneaking his way around the issue like a good little rat. I hope he knows something useful by the time Jack wakes up.  
Jack is going to wake up.  
...


	11. Day 128, Nov. 20th

Handy little vermin, that Chester. He found another surgical tool in the yard. Good thing, too. Filida's sorrow is proving difficult to locate.

...Apparently, that's the last of the tools. I was adding this latest one to the collection (I've dared not show most of these to Jim; Tan says it'll put him in the wrong frame of mind, but I'm just afraid to get his hopes up) and the Puppeteer had something rather...well, he had something to say and as usual it has me wishing the bastard would take a few days to sort himself out. One second he's irritated that everyone is distracted from "fighting for freedom" by this horrible poisonous need to save Jack, and the next...our "guiding star"? Well, P's right about that in a sense. No one with half a brain would follow Jack too closely, but he is undoubtedly the reason a lot of them keep fighting. More than a few would have given up by now if he didn't provide an example of pure bullheaded refusal to quit.  
Frankly, that's one of the reasons I'm so pissed off at Jack. Surely he knows how many he's saved...but he's willing to leave us all behind on the off chance that a fucking cobbled-together explosive will get through walls that have successfully held dozens of desperate souls who had every bit of the will and ingenuity Jack's got and yet STILL COULDN'T GET FREE.  
Oh, shut up P you asshole. I'll cry if I want to. Actually, I cry even when I don't want to and mocking me will NOT make me stop.  
Jesus, it's like he was raised under a rock somewhere and never learned any emotional maturity. OH WAIT.  
...


	12. Day 129, Nov. 21st

Eslynn's sorrow...such a heavy, metallic thing. Willem the warrior claims he's the only one to die in that circle of stones where Filida shed her tears. He doesn't remember, but it seems possible that he's the one she tried to fetch from the afterlife. If he was wandering those stones, cursed, it's no wonder she couldn't find him.  
And the maiden's hatred...buried in the crypt, where Arlene says he was buried next to his king. Was it the king she hated?  
Ugh, my head hurts. And I have to stop trying to sleep. It just ends in weird, sort-of-unpleasant dreams.  
But I'm so dizzy...I haven't even dared to check on Jim, since I'm a total coward and all. He must be so much worse off than the rest of us; Tan's getting anxious.  
I wonder if she has feelings for him. She seems rather...unlike herself, around him, lately. Less detached.  
But then, I'm suddenly her sister and I'm pretty sure she's not also secretly in love with ME. So...  
Oh. The last emotion. Tan wants five, to tie them to the five elements so she can do one of her rituals. Willem's anger was wood, Alastriona's hatred is fire, Arlene's fear is water, and Eslynn's sorrow is metal. Now we need earth--and it looks like we'll have to go to the Elder himself to get it.  
"The Elder" confuses me. He's supposedly this place's "conscience" and he "bears the burden of the deaths" here. But the four I met on the other side seem to be the originals, and Leonard looks like he's from a more recent time period than they are. How can he be "Elder"?  
So many questions, not enough answers. Not enough time. I'm only writing because I need something to do while I'm trying not to pass out from blood loss and sleep deprivation.  
...Lance says I should stop trying not to pass out and let others handle things for a while. He's sweet and all, but I think hes forgetting that I'm aware of how things in this house tend to go to shit without my direct supervision. I don't know WHY and I sure as hell don't like it, but you can't change facts.

Well, that was surprisingly painless. Possibly because my whole body is more or less numb. But Leonard showed up in the attic after only the fourth or fifth angry sigh from Ryan, and he's given us...something. Tan pulled her little "magic hands" thing and pulled an emotion out of him that he doesn't even remember himself.  
Not sure what it is, exactly. Isami says it's an echo of something that used to be, but changed--trust turned into remorse.  
Well, of course. If he's got such a heavy conscience that he's been given the burden of THIS place, then he must have betrayed someone.  
Anyway, it doesn't matter now. Isami wants me to help her perform a ritual to unite the five elements. I'm on the verge of collapse, so I'm not sure that's such a good idea. But Tan has always had good judgment in the past. Maybe when I'm beaten down like this, it's easier to work with elements from the other side. I'll trust her and see what happens.  
Wish us luck.

Oh god, I think I might pass out. Or throw up. I wish I knew what was going on, but Jim--well, Jim probably actually looked at me and decided I won't be able to stay conscious long enough to assist with surgery. So I'm stuck out here, standing sentry at the kitchen door. No idea what's going on. Writing to distract myself but it looks like that's not working.  
We did the ritual. I guess it worked. Tan says she was never into the occult before she came into the house, but she's a fine witch now if you ask me. Leonard accepted the elements and let go of Jim. I'll give credit to that Fairwood stubbornness: Jim was back in doctor mode in seconds flat.  
Till he saw the surgical instruments and defibrillator. Then I thought he was going to cry. I'm glad he didn't, because then I would've and that's never pretty.  
He insisted on going to thank Ryan. I could have told him that wouldn't fly. Ryan doesn't want anyone mistaking him for a good guy, and probably gratitude makes him as uncomfortable as it makes me. Luckily Jim let it go quickly.  
Apparently Ryan has saved Jim once too. With a bottle of wine. What a romantic. I think I'll tease the shit out of him about it if I don't die of blood loss and exhaustion.  
Or grief. If this goes badly...  
...


	13. Day 130, Nov. 22nd

Jack's alive. Sleeping last I heard, but alive. I think I would have had some sort of emotional breakdown out of sheer relief but Jim headed me off. Told me to get some freaking sleep and I am not one to disregard medical advice.  
Actually he fucking dosed me with something, so I couldn't have ignored him if I tried. I would not have let him do that if I'd been thinking straight, but I was about three-quarters dead and also not of a mind to refuse the doc anything.  
Anyway, I have no idea how long I slept but it seems to be late and my head hurts like a bitch. I think those drugs are not meant to be administered to someone who's missing half her blood. Also with me there is such a thing as too much sleep.  
Then again, the headache might also have something to do with being woken from a dead sleep by an overly-cheerful Jenny once again hovering over me acting like the fact that no one could freaking wake me up is no big deal.  
That actually kind of stung the first time--her attitude of oh, Tara was never in any danger and now that she's awake we can get on with saving more important people. I did have a choice, you know. I didn't have to come back. Sidhe was so close...and I wouldn't have been alone.  
Oh well. Fuck her anyway. She's blocked out everything but what she wants to see and I just don't have it in me to forgive her for that right now.  
Brace yourself for my most bizarre statement of the day so far: Ryan wants to see me? THAT'S AWESOME. I would genuinely like to see Ryan. Ryan is so much less obnoxious than the people who try to pretend everything is sunshine and roses in the murder mansion. I'm going to go bask in his terseness and his complete inability to deal with people in a normal fashion. I've somehow convinced myself it's cute and maybe being amused over how awful a person he is will pull me out of my funk.

Holy shit, I had to escape for a bit.  
The Fairwoods were in the attic with Ryan. Drinking. With Ryan. Who was behaving like a person. RYAN.  
Which did not really register at the time since I was trying not to buckle under the TIDAL WAVE of mixed emotions I got from seeing Jack awake. He looks bad, but he's alive. I wanted to hug him. And then KICK HIS ASS. But both of those things will have to wait until he doesn't look quite so close to just going ahead and dying on us anyway. And I told him so.  
Little bastard almost cracked a smile.  
Ryan DID crack a smile, which floored me. I may have gotten a little giddy. They think it was the wine, but really I'm just...elated. We scraped by another crisis. My boys are okay. Ryan has good taste in wine.  
Okay, it's a LITTLE bit because of the wine. But only a little. I guarantee I could drink Jim's skinny ass under the table.  
Then maybe he'd get more suggestible and...wait, no, that's illegal. Shit.  
Okay seriously, though, the next time those two get to thanking me for all the shit I put myself through for them, I am definitely bringing up the threesome idea. Out loud.  
I'm serious. I kissed Tan. I can proposition the Fairwoods.  
Anyway  
Damn, I segue with "so" and "anyway" a LOT, don't I?  
ANYWHORE, I'm hiding in my room for a sec because I'm tipsy and suddenly everyone in the house wants a piece of me. Jim asked me to meet him in the living room to discuss Jack, which frankly scares the shit out of me. Jenny asked me to come find her later this evening because she wants something, surprise surprise. Tan--sorry, Isami. "Tan" is no more, right? Anyway, my new sis requested that I come and listen to her story...which I'm actually kind of excited about, since she's so secretive most of the time. P is whining about being ignored again. And even the frigging GHOST is horning in on my time. Something about putting together scraps of info into a complete story. Listen, Leonard. If this is leading into me somehow getting you your memory back...bud, I do not think you want to go down that road. Just...I don't like Alastriona but I think she's right. Sometimes it's just less painful to forget.  
Not that I'd ever be able to stand taking my own advice. Having no past? That would be terrifying.  
Okay, enough stalling. Jim first; he looked worried.

Poor Jack. He's paid a heavy price for trying to martyr himself. His body is mostly healed, but weak, and they weren't able to save most of his eyesight. That's not what worries Jim, though. It's the depression. Jack's lost his spirit.  
I wish I could help with that. Really, I do. But it's all I can do to hold on myself. Sarcastic little quips in a found journal are one thing, but in the real world? Surely they've noticed how quiet I got, toward the end before it all went BOOM.  
Shit. Well, if I can do anything for him, I will. I can't stop now. What would be the point of all that pain and fear if we only saved a shell of him?

You don't understand it, do you, P? We don't want freedom as badly as you want us to. I'll stay your prisoner forever if I have to, to keep them safe. As much as I know the best way to do that is to open the door and let us all be free...they never give me the chance. I have to focus on THEM, not the path forward. It's simple to you, because you're on the outside. You're the audience, not the master--you're sitting on your sofa at home screaming at the dumb blonde to not go into the basement because the fuse box is always at the bottom of a dark stairway for a very diabolical reason.  
Trust me, I know there's a slasher waiting down there. But reality is never as simple as you want it to be.  
I wish I could talk to you like an equal for once. I wish I could explain and expect you to actually hear me.  
Hell, I wish a lot of things. It's time to meet Isami. Maybe she'll distract me from this...

It seems my guess was right. T-Isami was a prosecutor. A ruthless one. I'm not sure if she was directly involved in John's case, but her job landed her in Act I.  
I wish I knew more, but Jenny got anxious and came to find me. I guess I should have gone to Isami after everything else was wrapped up, but...well. You know this bunch. Everything is NEVER wrapped up.  
As for Jenny...clever girl. Very clever, and sneakier than anyone gives her credit for. Not a terribly good actress, though. I could tell something was up when she turned out to have been so anxious about a missing recipe book. A RECIPE BOOK? Seriously? Yeah, not even Jenny gets that keyed up over not being able to make borscht. Seems she staged a little mishap to scatter paper everywhere and give me a note without the cameras catching it.  
Crafty as she is, I probably could give her some tips on covert note-passing. Easiest (and least suspicious) way? Lean over the recipient's shoulder while he's working on something, ostensibly to snoop, and slip the note into his pocket. I've gotten encyclopedias' worth of info to Jack that way, since he's ALWAYS working on something.  
Or he was...before he got all broken and depressed. And I did...before I had my little temper tantrum and got myself stricken from his list of allies.  
Wow, okay, veering into the Land of Angst and Woe. I'm going to get off the pity train before it reaches its destination, get some sleep, and then go see what Leonard wants before I tackle this next round of "Feather, can I talk to you?"s.  
...


	14. Day 131, Nov. 23rd

Nothing like getting felt up by ghosts first thing in the morning to start your day off right. So Leonard has been chatting with the druid, who believes that removing the ghosts' geisa will free them--I'm not real clear on whether it's only the original four we're freeing here, or if I need to be looking into our dear Elder too, and I'm also not sure what freeing them will accomplish. Arlene already said that remembering their pasts would give them back their burdens and take those burdens off the Elder, so why do they need to be free? Will it help lift the curse, or does this just count as another one of my many acts of random philanthropy?  
Screw it. It doesn't cost me anything to help ghosts...unless I wander too far into the fog and die. But what's life without risk, eh? Not like I have anything else to do.

Speaking of the five thousand other things I have to do...Jim asked to see me again. I told him if he's going to take up so much of my time, we may as well go steady. He misinterpreted that as a joke. I'll have to be less subtle.  
Anyway, it was about factions. Alice took over a while back, after one or another of the debacles with Jack, but for some reason she's asked the doc to come back to the fold--just not as a leader this time. I'm not sure what he thinks my current factional status is, but he warned me that I'll have to make a choice and that Alice is not him.  
I asked him who the fuck he thought he was talking to. If he forgot what happened the last time I was told to pick a side. I'm not about to go blindly following anyone. Just because I like Jim, and naturally gravitated to his side after my little falling-out with Jack, does not make me a Follower and it sure as HELL doesn't make me susceptible to Alice and her little cult.  
He might be right about one thing, though. This time, I can't play both sides. I'll have to make a choice. And I don't like it. It's not as though I have a whole lot of connections right now, what with everything that's been going on, but before the shit hit the fan I had a decent idea of most of what was going on in the house. When I join a faction, I'll know what's going on on one side...but the other side will be a mystery. And the factions are getting too dangerous for that to sit well with me.  
I could join the Rats and try to keep up with the Followers through Jim...but something tells me Jim is not going to be very in the loop this time around. He was already expelled once as a traitor and a spy...  
Ridiculous. Much as I hate to agree with P, he's right about the factions. We're creating roadblocks for ourselves, manufacturing drama and intrigue, and complicating our very simple mission to gain freedom.  
Bah. He's hit it on the head, telling me I'm wasting time solving "useless riddles." Time to cut through the bullshit. He wants me to take his test? Fine.

Hot damn, P, I could kiss you right now.  
A hint. An actual USABLE hint.  
The note says, "I have lots to say but never speak, I open but you cannot walk through me, I have a spine but no bones. PS Don't forget to press the button before passing the test."  
So I'm looking for a book. Or an album, or at least something booklike. And I'll need to retrieve that remote control unit from Jack. He's been fiddling with it, trying to figure out what it's for, but mostly just succeeded in getting the button ungummed.  
My problem now is that there are books in every damn room of the house, so unless P gives me another hint--but he seems to have exhausted his reserves of helpfulness for a bit. So probably I'll just start with the library and work my way down...oh shit, I have an appointment with Isami!  
Sorry, P. My determination to follow your path and get rid of distractions was short-lived...like most of my resolutions. You still love me, right?  
Yeah. He totally still loves me.

It really was bad before. I brushed off Jenny's horror--though the evidence was there in Emily's letters. She carried clubs. She used her rope as a weapon. She hoarded bandages made out of sheets.  
Tan's story makes our life in Act II look idyllic. Sure, people are getting restless--it's hard to keep valuables hidden and I feel less and less safe as time goes on--but Act I sounds like the fucking Thunderdome. People were dying left and right, and only Isami, Ryan, and their buddy "Monkey" kept their heads. This time around, we have medical supplies, tools, a doctor...and, so far at least, a semblance of civility.  
So...the Puppeteer wants me to fight for myself...but Ryan toasts me because I fight for others. Isami calls me her sister because I haven't "lost my humanity."  
This...baffles me. I don't really understand what's so difficult about being a decent fucking human being. Out there or in here. Act I or Act II. It's not me or the others who cooperate and do each other favors who are BETTER than the rest...it's the rest who are WORSE. The fact that I have made friends and I do whatever I can for them...it shouldn't be unusual enough to warrant comment. It just shouldn't.  
Ah, but there I go again. Saying the word "should" as though it holds any weight. "Should" is a flashlight beam trying to light up the Abyss. "Should" is useless.  
We should be at home watching bad holiday specials and complaining about how early the stores start playing Christmas carols.  
...


	15. Day 132, Nov. 24th

Well, the inevitable has come to pass. I've successfully avoided Alice for more than five months now, and fuck knows where Bill has been--wasn't really sure he was still ALIVE once his booze stores dried up. But they've both taken it into their heads to seek me out now, and there's no hiding in this house from people who WANT to find you.  
Alice wasn't as bad as I'd built her up to be in my mind...but there's something off about her. It's in her expression more than her words, though her words were definitely not the right ones if she wanted to make a good impression. Clearly she knows very little about me, which I find comforting.  
Bill is a different story--good at putting on a jovial facade, though I know his type well enough to see through it. He seems to know me as an ally of Jim's--not a bad reputation to have, I suppose, since Jim is respected by many in both factions. I'm wary of Bill despite the initial positive impression, though, because I DID put some effort into reviving my connections and I've been talking to them. Chester and a couple others have told me that Bill seized control before the bomb incident, and that things were taking a turn for the sketchy. Now, Jack was not a particularly good leader: he was all charisma and no sense. So I'll give Bill the benefit of the doubt. He could have taken over for Jack's own good and for the good of the poor stupid fools who kept throwing themselves in harm's way following Jack's example. But I'm not a fan of turncoats or usurpers, so this guy will have to tread carefully if he wants my help with anything.  
As for what they wanted...it seems harmless enough. They've heard of "Feather" and they want me to find a way to get into a new room. We've all been over the ones we've already got access to with a fine-toothed comb, so resources are drying up. P has mentioned a new room to me as well, so probably I should get on that. He tends to not make idle conversation, so if he mentioned a room then there is a room and I need to get into it. I just...haven't been as focused as I should be. Too much going on.  
Like Jenny. And the ghosts.  
Jenny's note was about P. Namely, about one of his forays into the house. It seems he turned off OUR cameras and Ryan's as well as his own before venturing in to place those surgical tools. But Ryan says he can tap into P's system if P. can tap into ours, so we're gathering data. Covertly.  
Like P. won't know. For a villain with flaws so cliche as to be almost cartoonish, he's shockingly observant.  
I still intend to be careful and cover my little errands for Jenny with other things...the ghosts are coming in handy that way. Willem has asked me to track down his old amulets, as they're connected to his geis. The search has required me to cool down my eyes a bit, which is still incredibly uncomfortable, but it's taking me through the right rooms so I can help Jenny with her project while I work on my own.  
Meanwhile, P probably thinks I've forgotten about that remote control unit. I'll have to follow up that hint soon. For now, though, sleep must be had. I've lost too much blood in the past week or so, and I am going to take it easy or die trying.  
...I may regret that particular word choice later.  
...


	16. Day 133, Nov. 25th

A rash of food poisonings has taken out a good portion of the house's residents for the foreseeable future. It leaves me a little freer to move about the rooms, but I can't count as much on getting help when I need it. I'll just have to do the best I can and hope my friends recover quickly.  
Jack strengthened the signal on my remote control unit a bit, but says I'll still need to be pretty close to whatever it activates for it to work. But that's okay. I didn't expect P to make things too easy.  
At least Jack seems to be feeling better. Bill paid him a visit to basically tell him he's being a dumbass, plus I think fiddling with that remote control made him feel slightly more useful. He might be faking, of course, because Jim's been worrying himself [the rest of the way] to death and Jack probably doesn't want that on his conscience. He told Jim today to lighten the fuck up because he isn't going to lie down and die.  
That was nice to hear. If Jack quits, then the Underground's suicide rate is probably going to start looking more like the Followers'...which would suck majorly. Before the explosion, you hardly ever saw Rats offing themselves. They tend to get caught in traps more than anything. But Chester says that while I was unconscious and Jack was...whatever Jack was, we had something of a reversal. Followers were keeling over due to blood loss, and Undergrounders were finding ways to escape the mortal coil. Not in any great numbers, of course, but there were still those who decided that if Jack couldn't get out of here alive, then probably none of us can.  
I didn't ask for names, but it didn't help. Live among the same people long enough, and you'll always know who's missing.  
...


	17. Day 135, Nov. 27th

Thanksgiving Day. It's been a bit quiet...Jenny took the opportunity to wrangle some good food out of P. but I don't think most of the people in this house celebrate American holidays...nor do they feel they have much to be thankful for.  
I am thankful, though. For Jenny's cooking. For my friends who have recovered with amazing swiftness. For still being alive and almost sane.  
Maybe I should scratch that last part. I caught myself actually enjoying one of P's more challenging tests earlier.  
On a different note, I found another of the Warrior's amulets. It wasn't easy, but I wish it had been more difficult because now I don't have an excuse to skulk about the hallway--and I still haven't managed to find the blind spot we need to get data off the camera. The bloody things are well protected and it's nearly impossible to mess with them covertly.  
Let it never be said that I gave up on a challenge.  
I give up on challenges all the time, but, I mean, it would still be nice if people didn't mention it.

Well, it was worth a shot. To distract P. from what Ryan and Jenny were doing while they messed with his system, I followed P's little hint about the remote control and went to the library. Nothing there, of course, so now I'm just going to have to...hmm. What if it's a diary?  
Eh, it doesn't matter. I'm about ninety percent positive that whatever I'm looking for is in the room I haven't found yet. Why else would P. bring it up?  
In the meantime, Jenny has more snooping she wants to do, and Willem has more lost amulets to retrieve.  
THEREFORE, I am off and running. I don't feel dizzy at the moment, so I must have too much blood. Tallyho!  
...


	18. Day 136, Nov. 28th

I've never really described those ghostly objects, have I? It's strange, being able to touch things some of my housemates can't even see. Chester can't see them; he's got all the mystical ability of a bowl of pudding. But I can stow them in my pockets or my bag like any other trinket, if my hands are cold enough. It's like handling fog.  
The amulets are a little different, though...a little more solid. It's as if they want to be picked up...found and rescued from the forgotten places where they fell. They have stories to tell and they want to be heard.  
Willem never really had a chance. The Roman invasion was brewing when he was still a child. No amulet could have stopped them.  
Well. He's long dead, and history is full of tragedy. I hope I can free him even so, because an eternity of suffering for mistakes made in a finite lifetime--it's the ultimate injustice. There has to be a way to make it right.  
...


	19. Day 137, Nov. 29th

Oh, Jenny, I'm so sorry.  
I should have said something to her. She wanted to see the Puppeteer...but even with Ryan helping us to get data off the systems, I never thought we'd actually manage a viable image. P is very careful when he enters his theater...I guess even with all his mistakes, I trusted him too much. Now Jenny's looked into the face of an old friend...and I could have warned her.  
Our Jenny is not to be underestimated, though. This house...it's HER domain. The Puppeteer is no match for her. She proved that today. Went toe to toe and shut him down.  
But it took a lot out of her. She always knew, on some level...couldn't bear to face it, that her friend has turned into this...and now that she can no longer deny it, it's almost too much for her. She desperately wants to talk to him, to try to make sense of this mess, but there's no way the coward will face her.  
Well, I'll do whatever I can to help. She impressed the hell out of me today. Finally said what I've never had the guts to say out loud: what FREEDOM really is. What it means, for each of us. He's always harping on about freedom as though it exists in a single definable form, but he's wrong. He can't just tell her to fight her way out of here and that's it, she's "free." HER freedom is the freedom to choose her own path. And mine...  
Damn that fucking druid anyway. I would never have laid a hand on any of those amulets if I'd realized I'd get a CURSE out of the deal. "Strive for freedom..." like he was doing me a favor. "Oh, you're doing this anyway, so I'll just curse you with it." Except that's NOT what I'm doing. I CAN'T "strive for freedom" because for me...freedom doesn't exist.  
Sure, there's an ideal of liberty--everybody gets to pursue his interests, everybody gets to do what he wants as long as it's not hurting anybody--but the reality is that that isn't how human society works. That's not how our minds work. We put strictures on everything. And we're happier that way. Because true freedom would mean having no responsibility to anything or anybody, no ties, nothing. How fucking sad and lonely does that sound?  
I don't WANT freedom, okay? I want to sit in the living room and read a book over Lance's shoulder because he hates that and eat cookies Jenny made us and listen to Jim argue with Jack over something they made up to argue over just so they wouldn't have to have an actual conversation (god forbid they ever understand each other). That's IT. That's all it takes to make me happy.  
Ok, Tan--ISAMI--could wear more revealing clothing. That would suit me right down to the ground.  
BUT NOW I have to "strive for freedom" because some centuries-dead geezer decided to go all mystical on my ass. Fuck you, Arlene. You deserve your eternal servitude.  
...


	20. Day 138, Nov. 30th

Found the new room: a bedroom under the hatch in the attic floor. It's a very...funereal room. Cold, in both senses of the word--I haven't seen any ghosts there yet, but I can feel how thin the line is between our world and theirs.  
It is frankly a mite unsettling.  
P seems to be trying to throw Jenny off of her mission to find and speak with him--he left a note from Jenny's mother. Jenny's mom seems to think Jenny got tired of being treated like a child and left...Jenny just seems relieved that they don't think she's dead. I suppose it would be comforting to an extent, but knowing your family is worried, or that they think you deliberately cut ties with them...well, for me it's not such a happy idea.  
Everyone else seems far more excited about the new room than I am. Bill praised me for "getting past that watchdog of the Puppeteer's" which I found amusing--I guess the old man hasn't gotten the memo that Ryan's more or less on my side now. So much for loyalty.  
As for Alice...gah, I don't like her. I just don't like her. Clearly P doesn't talk to her much, because she seemed unsettlingly awestruck when she talked about how much help the bastard gives me. But she insisted on tagging along when I searched the bedroom, so there's really nothing I can do short of...  
...I'm going to pretend I didn't just sit here and seriously contemplate murdering a person I technically just met.  
SO SPEAKING OF UNTIMELY DEATH don't you love my segues, Eslynn has asked me to find a few things for her related to her past. I like Eslynn so I'm doing it, but if this ends in another curse from Arlene, I'm just going to...do nothing. Who am I kidding? Can't do anything to a ghost. Can't give up my quests, either.  
Besides, Eslynn's story interests me. It seems she was an admirer of the Warrior. Poor girl never dreamed the war could ruin everything--had total faith in Willem and the rest of their army.  
...


	21. Day 139, Dec. 1st

We've had a cold snap and these poor precious little babies can't stand chilly fingers...so they piled on the firewood. Which then of course ran out just as the weather turned REALLY cold.  
Bastards. I haven't been properly warm since Jack pulled his stupid stunt. Now it's cold enough in the house to freeze the pipes, and people are getting sick. Jack has even had to take a break from whatever he's up to these days to try to insulate the plumbing, despite having come down with a cold himself. Jenny's got him bundled up in whatever she could find--it's adorable.  
I had to put my own projects on hold as well. I need to do my part; this house used to be so well-loved and taken care of, but that's the only reason it hasn't fallen down. Now it's coming apart for neglect. I've used newspapers and tape to stop up the cracks in my bedroom, which is consequently the warmest room in the house. That's not saying a whole lot though, and anemic people are hard to keep warm; it's made it a whole lot easier to see Eslynn but it's a lot more dangerous for me.  
Totally used it as an excuse to cuddle with Jack though. He griped and grumbled and mentioned the girlfriend, then when that didn't work he suggested that maybe I'd rather have Jim warm me up, to which I replied that I would not at all mind Jim warming me up but that I didn't think he could do it on his own what with the house being so cold and all, so would Jack mind helping out?  
He should have known better than to start that game with me. I am a dangerous woman when my filters are down.  
...


	22. Day 140, Dec. 2nd

Jim asked me if I would mind not inviting his brother to threesomes with family members, as it spooks him. I asked Jim if he would prefer one on one time. He actually looked like he was about to say something risque for a second but then he thought better of it. More on this as it develops.

Now that I'm not quite so close to dying, I've looked a little further into Eslynn's past. It's a sad story...she grew up in a time of war, loved the king's son who went away to fight...she gave him an amulet to keep him safe, but it's kind of hard to keep people safe when they go around cursing gods and defying Romans. When they brought her back the amulet, she couldn't believe it.She had to see for herself. She went to the stone circle where he died, and thence to Sidhe. But he wasn't there, so she came back to the fringes and has stayed there all this time. She's not cursed, so I can't free her; she chooses to stay because the Warrior she followed into death cannot move on himself.  
Arlene thinks there's more to the story because according to him, love can't keep a soul in the limbo between Sidhe and the living world. He's a cynical old coot, that's for sure.  
...


	23. Day 141, Dec. 3rd

I've been spending quite a bit of time in the bedroom, despite the fact that Alice is nearly always lurking there. I have no idea where she lurked BEFORE, but evidently she's taken a liking to the creepy old place and set up shop there. I wonder where Ryan will escape to NOW.  
Actually not a lot of people have been willing to explore the room because it creeps them out. Bill doesn't seem to mind, though he tries to avoid Alice. Chester will go pretty much anywhere and seems immune to the creep factor--I'm not sure he can even sense the ghosts, which is hilarious since even Jim can see them and if you asked me two months ago I'd have told you Jim is the least supernaturally-inclined person in the house.  
That has actually been a huge source of amusement and perplexity for me: who can see the ghosts and who can't, who is scared of them and who isn't. I wouldn't have picked Ryan as a believer, but he takes it in stride. Jim is a regular Jennifer Love Hewitt. Nat seems a little wigged out when Leonard pops up...but then again, that's a pretty common reaction to Leonard. And our beloved host: he tries to cover it with his usual arrogance, but I've overheard him trying to get Ryan to point out the ghosts and it's the funniest thing I've heard in a long time. He can't see them and it BOTHERS him that there's something in his house he's missing.  
...


	24. Day 142, Dec. 4th

Alice has got to be the second or third most judgmental person I've ever met. Based on a photo album with pictures from Kate Fall's movie sets and roles, Alice has inferred that Kate was a bad mother who cared more about her job than her family. We did find a photo of Kate holding a doll, so for some reason Alice has fixated on finding the doll collection. This is going to suck...because as many times as I've been over this house, I can say that I've definitely run across a doll or three, but I couldn't tell you exactly WHERE. Jenny says she thinks she saw one in the library, so I'll start there.  
...


	25. Day 143, Dec. 5th

I've become somewhat obsessed with helping Jenny make Christmas. She wants to build a tree out of scraps from the fir branches P left when it started to look like we'd all actually catch hypothermia and die. She wants decorations, too, and presents. Even though half of the people in this place are too prickly to give or accept gifts.  
P says it's a needless distraction and I'll see how foolish I've been before long. He's probably right. Hell, I don't even LIKE Christmas. But Jenny tries so hard to make people happy...the least I can do is try to help. Besides, there are a lot of people in this house who need some holiday cheer. They're starting to go a little crazy: several people have locked themselves in their rooms and refused to come out in so long that I swear their doors have grown cobwebs. Chester has taken to marathonning rooms until he's literally too weak to stand up.  
On the plus side, he's taken over the search for Alice's dolls. He and Alice are evidently birds of a mentally-unbalanced feather. Either that or he just really likes dolls.  
...


	26. Day 144, Dec. 6th

A whole tree out of spare parts by Christmas? God, it's impossible! And Jenny is trying to find a way around everybody's pride so we can do gift exchanges like normal people. Ha.  
I'm afraid I've been rather harsh--my temper is showing through. All this stress piling up, and everyone getting sick besides. Jenny's trying to make a holiday out of nothing, and nurse everyone through the spate of cold weather and cold viruses, and...well, she doesn't often do it in front of me because then P is able to evade her by activating my Snark Mode, but I think she's still trying to get through to him. So she's not exactly in the best frame of mind either and now I feel guilty. Damn it.  
...


	27. Day 145, Dec. 7th

Jim, I love you. Really, I do. In fact it kind of floored me when I realized just HOW MUCH. And normally I think it's adorable how you're trying to be a psychologist even though you're clearly TERRIBLE at it. But it's December, so I'm automatically in a bad mood.  
So here it is: HOW LONG have we known each other now? He should know me. But half the shit he says to me suggests he's bought into my "misanthropic bitch" persona. How he could possibly believe that shtick, with all the stuff I do for him and other people, I cannot fathom.  
Anyway, I guess most days I would have found this funny. Jim pulled me aside today and told me to be careful and understanding with Lance, because he's having a hard time in the house and so far the only person he's started to open up to is me.  
He says Lance "trusts no one, just quietly does as he's told." HA. Gee, I wonder where he'd ever find common ground with me?  
No, really. I'm not usually QUIET about it by any means, but I generally do most things my darling fellow puppets ask of me. And it took me months to find anyone I'd trust further than I can throw 'em. Jenny's sweet but unreliable; the Fairwoods are too focused on their own projects and conflicts; Nat is bullheaded and domineering; Isami is...well, first she was one of HIS and now I'm just not entirely sure where she stands; Ryan is Ryan; Chester's a sneaky, unpredictable RAT.  
You see where I'm headed with this. It took time to find people I could truly count on in this mess.  
Maybe I should mention them to Lance. He doesn't have to rely on the nutcases in his own faction if he doesn't think they're trustworthy. Which...you know...a lot of them aren't.  
Of course, neither are most of the Rats. Turncoat bastards. Even if Bill DOES seem like a stabler leader....

Well, it seems that Lance overheard Jim's well-meant advice and has taken offense.  
There I was, innocently minding my own business--shut up, I actually was for once--while Lance, seemingly oblivious to my presence, has his nose stuck in a book, when all of a sudden out of nowhere he says "I'm not a bomb."  
To which my reaction was something along the lines of "oh. Well, that's good 'cause that would be messy." But I didn't say it because I was busy wondering where the hell THAT came from. Why exactly would he need to inform me, apropos of nothing, that he does not happen to be an explosive device?  
At least when he elaborated that he's also not a vase or a psycho, things started to make a little more sense. Then I was like "dude. You realize that I never take Jim's advice, right? The man is brilliant and I'm kind of in love with him a little but he's bad at the whole understanding people thing. He thinks he's not, but he is. He's terrible. It's actually really sad."  
NO, I didn't say it OUT LOUD. Who do you think you're talking to? But my raised eyebrows seemed to convey my meaning pretty well. He seemed appeased, at any rate. Still kind of makes me wonder if maybe he's had trouble with people making assumptions about him. It would make sense: he's introverted and seemingly intelligent, which is a combo that gets the "weird" or "psycho" label a lot. Hell, even I called him "weird" at one point--though in my defense it was because he acted scared of me.  
Hm. You know, I think this might count as standing up to me. Cool.  
...


	28. Day 147, Dec. 9th

"It is the house."  
That was the first coded message: the one scratched into the underside of a shelf in the bedroom. Spooky, no? Overtones of horror. I wonder if that's actually what he meant, because it very well COULD be the house, you know. Cursed ground, murders...since we don't know who really killed the Falls, we don't know why.  
I'm not entirely sure it wasn't John. With a horror-movie premise like "cursed land" you can never be too certain nobody is possessed.  
Yes, I did just freak myself out a little.  
Anyway, the second message said "we were right" and the third mentions a diary. So we have to find the diary somewhere in the house...you know, the house I've searched with a fine-toothed comb. JOY.  
...


	29. Day 148, Dec. 10th

Chester roped me into helping him search for dolls. While we looked, he told me a couple of anecdotes Alice gave him. She knew a girl who ran away from her alcoholic parents to join the circus. She worked as a nurse in a hospital and resented having to save the a mother who survived because she didn't try to shield her child. She has got some serious parental issues. Thinks that the Puppeteer's issues stem from Kate being a restrictive mother who didn't want male children and focused on her career over her family.  
Hell, maybe she's right.  
It took us most of the afternoon to find absolutely nothing in the children's room, then it turned out that Tan had the doll we were after all along. WHY it didn't occur to either of us to ask her, I have no idea.  
Interestingly, Isami had the doll but expressed genuine horror when she found out who was looking for it. She gave it to me for safekeeping, on the condition that Alice doesn't get it. Suits me fine. I don't care for Alice any more than anyone else does. To be perfectly honest, I only helped Chester so I could turn around and make him help me find that damn book.  
Which, incidentally, he had in his possession. He'd been toying with the ciphers but it isn't one that's familiar to him, so he hadn't gotten very far.  
He handed it over easily enough. Probably figures he can just read my diary later to find out what it said. This is how he knew I had a piece of the bomb schematic. And how he knew that I have carnal intentions toward one or both Fairwood brothers. (He tried to blackmail me with that one but I told him I didn't mind if they knew. Poor guy was so disappointed.)  
If you're saying I really should hide this thing better, you're right. And normally I do hide all the important stuff. But I have a bad habit of walking off mid-entry and leaving the book where it lies, so actually I'm surprised that Chester seems to be the only person to hijack it.  
Key word being "seems." Possibly I have a readership and they're just not being obvious about it. Wouldn't that be funny?  
...


	30. Day 149, Dec. 11th

I've been wiring together fir fragments all day. I'm covered in sap and I'm pretty sure the tree stabbed me more in one afternoon than P's door handles have in the entire...god, five months? FIVE--  
Shit. Fuck. Needless to say I'm cranky. But when I went to check on Bill's progress with the book, what does he tell me? "Come back later; I'm thinking."  
So think out loud, genius. I'm not in your damn way. I just kind of want to be included in something for once instead of just gathering all the pieces and waiting to hear how it all turned out later.  
Ugh, never mind. I'll go see how Chester's doing with the doll hunt.

Okay, Chester was physically in the presence of Alice, who either didn't want me butting in or just wanted to stir shit in the Underground--not that the two motives are mutually exclusive, come to think of it. She said the old man was probably just drinking in the basement.  
Which he was, but he happened to also be thinking. And for the record, I only went down there to escape the bad vibes floating around the rest of the house.  
At least it resulted in information. The man Bill remembers from his precinct was named Barney. Barney and his partner Charlie worked on the Witchbridge case, and they raised a stink about it when John was accused. Barney didn't believe the kid did it. It seems he retired without making any real impression on anyone about it, though. Then last spring he disappeared.  
Bill thinks the old detective managed to unearth something about the real killer. It's all a bit fuzzy to me, and Bill's not sharing all of his thoughts on it, but there could be clues to finding the real killer if this guy Barney managed to figure it out and left the information for his partner to find. I'm not sure it helps anything, but my curious mind has been DYING to know the truth.  
Plus, maybe if P. knows the truth, he can start coming to terms with things. Maybe. Or he'll go the rest of the way over the edge and kill us all.  
Tis the season. Aren't I jolly?  
...


	31. Day 153, Dec. 15th

With Chester handling the batty Follower leader and Bill drinking his way through another level of encryption on those notes from the dead cop, I've actually had some more time to do my own thing. Or I would, if it wasn't for the fact that even dead people won't leave me alone in this house.  
I wouldn't mind if it was Eslynn, but it seems the old coot wants me to hear his story. But of course he can't just tell me. That would be simple. He has to start out in parable form and make me find little mementos along the way. Dude actually remembers his past, unlike the others, but still wants me to jump through the same hoops.  
Or maybe he's just as fuzzy about his past as the others and I just complain because I don't like him. I really, really don't like him.  
...


	32. Day 155, Dec. 17th

It seems the old bastard is a little bit interesting after all. He's Roman by birth--came over as a boy on one of their ships, became fascinated with "the barbarians" and wanted to be like them. They gave him a new name, a new religion and a new life. For some reason everybody thought Rome wouldn't attack if one of their own was living among the potential enemies.  
I sometimes forget that it probably wasn't common knowledge in those days just how big a douche Rome was.  
...


	33. Day 156, Dec. 18th

Wow, I actually feel sorry for the old bastard. He lived most of his life among his adopted people, then his original people attacked them. He was next to the king when he fell, and lived up to all his duties. Turns out Arlene did nothing wrong...someone was trying to keep the king's soul back from Sidhe but couldn't, and the spell bound Arlene instead.  
I have a suspicion I know who that was, but why would Alastriona hate the king that much?  
At this rate I'll wind up having to TALK to the broad, and who needs that. Luckily my third-least-favorite dead person showed up to distract me.  
Or, actually, an amorphous blob showed up. I only knew it was Leonard because his voice is kind of distinctive. I wish I'd thought to pretend to be offended by him not bothering to take a recognizable form. I could have really screwed with his head.  
Instead, I obediently followed the blob to the hallway, where it proceeded to screw with MY head by telling me to look for something that wasn't there. The oh-so-helpful description: "something from the other side." Thanks, Elder.  
I only managed so many tries before I started feeling too cold. I think my attitude has something to do with it....my warmth definitely seems to fade faster when I'm in a bad mood. Which makes sense actually.  
Anyway, I'm taking a break. If Leonard thinks this "something" is of pressing importance he'd better say so, because otherwise, our dear Elder is very low on my list of priorities.  
...


	34. Day 157, Dec. 19th

Oh lord, Christmas is a week away. Christmas is a week away and I have no idea what to do. I'm running errands for dead people, and Jenny's trying to pretend she's not still upset about John, and Bill and Alice are both kind of hinting that I need to maybe make a decision soon about factions, and CHRISTMAS in THIS HOUSE is LESS than a week away!  
I think I just found out what a panic attack feels like. Weirdly, Puppeteer talked me through it. He was being totally obnoxious, but it actually worked.  
I hate myself a little for being grateful, but there you go. Probably the bastard knows a thing or two about panic attacks himself. It's nice that he cares enough to taunt me until the urge to find and murder him drowns out the....I have used "panic" too many times in one entry so I think I'll go with "tharn."  
...


	35. Day 158, Dec. 20th

Well, Jack has recovered from whatever crud is going around, but I think he gave it to Nat. And she is a TERRIBLE patient. It's actually kind of funny. Jim practically dragged her kicking and screaming out of the basement to receive treatment, and I only say "practically" because I think she was too weak to actually kick him.  
I might do it for her, though, if Jim keeps sending me running about the house looking for medicines and thermometers. I need to rest at some point, or I'll get sick too. My immune system is normally pretty amazing, but I imagine with all the stress and blood loss, I'm not exactly in prime form.  
Ah, well. I suppose if I get sick I'll just make Jim run around and fetch things for ME for a change. I am not above using guilt.

Lance popped in to help me save his lady love from the ravages of disease. I'd gush about how adorable that is, but he managed to completely derail that reaction with a single action: after a test, he looked at the camera and said "thank you, teacher."  
What. The actual. Fuck. Here I was thinking this kid has actual brains and not the innate-intelligence-hampered-by-rampant-crazy so common in this house. (No, seriously. Jack. Jim. Ryan. Puppy. Even Jenny, for crying out loud--girl's a genius but gets so fixated on little things that her smarts barely do her any good.) But Lance has obviously soaked up too much of Alice's nonsense.  
That boy had better watch his step. I will beat this crap out of him if I have to. I bet Nat would help.  
...


	36. Day 159, Dec. 21st

The sick Rat is safely ensconced in the living room, "recuperating." And by "recuperating" I mean snarling and coughing, all the while Jim just casually thwarts her attempts to escape.  
I got out of there before Jim could think of anything else for me to do. Figured while I'm feeling okay--still amused by poor Nat--I'd search the hallway again for the mysterious "something" Leonard wants me to find.  
I was practically standing on the "something" when Leonard spoke up without bothering to materialize, scared the crap out of me, and pointed out a ghostly playing card on the floor. It WAS NOT there before he spoke.  
He was pretty excited about it, though. Insisted we go to the library right away. He held my hand while we watched some ugly old vultures play brag. It was all very romantic.  
Also very unsettling. Dear Elder must have been transmitting something he's seen before...though I'm not sure how he can do that just by holding hands. And if he's showing me his memories, then that means he wants me to dig around and find his past like I did for Eslynn and the others. I'm not so sure that's a good idea. It has not escaped my notice that Leonard hangs out in the attic a lot. Who else do we recall who likes the attic? No, not Ryan. It's the ghost John wrote about. The guy who was accused of murder, but escaped and burned the house down on top of himself and his accusers.  
Coincidence? False reporting? For Leonard's sake, I hope so. But as curious as I am, I would rather not have any more people remembering unpleasant things because of me. Just a little break would be nice.  
...


	37. Day 160, Dec. 22nd

T-minus three days. I'm not sure if this counts as a break, but Jenny made me drop everything and come plot with her.  
I'd have been less happy about it, except she genuinely seemed excited about her idea: more like the Jenny of a few weeks ago before the shit hit the fan, and less like she's just struggling to create a semi-normal environment for everyone so she can feel like she's contributing.  
Plus, it's a cute idea. Jenny decided that the only way around everybody's hang-ups is for us to do the presents ourselves and be secret Santas for the whole house. It'll be a lot of work, but Jenny's ideas are nice and I think it'll make most people happy.  
Okay, so it also helps me avoid Leonard. I can have two motives without one of them being false.  
...


	38. Day 161, Dec. 23rd

Wow, Jenny is terrible at subterfuge. She says she is, and she's right.  
We ran ourselves ragged yesterday getting all those presents together, but she wanted to get them to their recipients as quickly as possible without anyone noticing. First stop was the basement, where Jack was working on something or other just like old times--possibly even more absorbed in his task because he can't see very well at the moment.  
But Jenny still saw the need to tell me to hide the gift while she distracted Jack. I was like "Jenny. He's already distracted. Leave him alone." But she insisted, as she does. So we picked an awkward, nostalgic-in-a-bad-way fight with Jack about him forgetting to eat, during which Jack apparently forgot that if he catches me in the wrong mood I will happily eviscerate him.  
Yes, I restrained myself. It's Christmas, after all. Killing Jack would just depress everyone. So I just gave him a look that promised Retribution, Ye Verily, and I fully intend to proposition him and his brother in front of everybody next time I catch them both in the same room. If I'm lucky, that'll embarrass him TO DEATH and then I can go fetch him back and we can all go on our merry way.  
It was just as bad in the living room. Jim was doing his daily clinic. At least he actually needed to be distracted, since he noticed us coming in, but what *I* would have done was tell him we're just looking for some trinket or other that Jenny lost and then wait for him to refocus on his patients. Much more believable than Jenny's ploy of having a headache that suddenly vanished after two minutes in the room.  
It was a relief to find Isami's usual haunt empty. But we'll have to think of a better delivery method if Jenny insists on coming with me to "distract" people.  
...


	39. Day 162, Dec. 24th

Christmas Eve. I've been trapped here since July 16th, and now it's Christmas Eve.

Sorry, that hit me a little harder than expected. I ate some chocolate and badgered Jenny about the Santa problem and now I feel better. She wants to use P's silly little mechanical rats and birds to deliver the presents. I think it's just absurd enough to work. We'll see how it goes.  
...


	40. Day 163, Dec. 25th

Well I'll be damned. It worked. The stupid toys played right along, and now everyone is all excited about their gifts, speculating on who sent them. It's adorable. Even I got one...and I didn't forget to slip something into Jenny's stocking. Santa needs gifts too, after all.  
It's cute. People are having fun. Still, Christmas morning locked in here...P's a little pissy today and I don't blame him. I'm almost happy to abandon my paltry pile of gifts to go do random tests.  
Almost. It's getting harder to bear being cut over and over. Bill says his fingers have lost their sensitivity but mine still feel things just fine. Especially pain.

Ryan sent me a gift. A pair of spectacles with a note telling me to look closer when I'm asked to search for something. Gift-wrapped sarcasm--I love it.  
Tan's gift arrived not too long after--puzzle pieces. It's both thoughtful and depressing: depressing because of how excited I was. Puzzles never used to interest me that much. Now they're my only real hope of ever looking at my own palms and not seeing blood.

It didn't take long for the pall to resettle over the house, even with Jenny flying around installing Christmas cheer in every corner she can reach. She hung tinsel on Lance and slapped a Santa hat on Jack. It sort of worked but the laughter died down fast and you can tell they're all thinking about Christmas outside. Now she's got this...gleam in her eyes...it's....crap, she's looking at me.

She wanted me to deliver invites to a Christmas party. That's harder to do when you have to bleed for every delivery. But I'm alive and everyone should have been able to run across an invitation by now if they follow their usual routes. I think I'll have a nice Christmas nap before the festivities begin.  
...


	41. Day 164, Dec. 26th

The party was nice. There was mistletoe, so I was able to make a holy terror of myself by contriving to shove people under it together. I got Ryan and Isami, Jack and Jenny (Jack tried to refuse but Jenny is a rabid traditionalist), Lance and Nat, and was plotting to toss Chester under there with Alice when some soon-to-be-dead someone turned it around on me.  
But at least it solved the question of who to pair Jim with for maximum embarrassment. So there's that.  
Anyway, today I'm avoiding everyone since (a)I don't want to hear one more person ask me when the wedding is, and (b)I'm pretty sure multiple parties are plotting retribution and who needs that, right? So I'm going to look for more of Leonard's "beacons." Apparently I need the cards to spark his memories.

...I'm going to kill him. Somehow. I'm not even sure if he was fucking with my head on purpose or if he genuinely made a mistake, but he will pay as soon as I figure out how to punish a ghost.  
He said the next card might be in the living room...took forever to find it, while trying to avoid the invalids Jim has stacked three deep in there--not to mention avoiding Jim himself--and yes I realize it's weird that I can proposition him without blinking but a mistletoe kiss has DESTROYED my composure--dammit where was I--oh right, I found the card and Leonard's all like "see, I planted the seeds of doubt and that made it hard to find trolololol"  
Sorry. I'm ranting. Just a little hard to rein in the frustration when no one will just straight TELL you things like "by the way, you will find the thing easily if you're really sure it's there."  
...


	42. Day 165, Dec. 27th

I'm not sure how much of this I can take. Yes, I'm getting better at materializing the "beacons," but my reward for doing so is getting to look at that old crone and her gargoyle of an opponent. They're both obnoxious, the game is boring, and even the prospect of one of them losing a pretty huge stack of cash doesn't make it less of a yawn. And Leonard goes on like it's the most interesting thing in the world.  
Let me make it clear, Elder: card games are only interesting to people who know how to play. I can grab some of the rules out of your head but that's not the same thing. So please stop torturing me, okay?  
...


	43. Day 167, Dec. 29th

It's over, thank God.  
The card game, that is. Leonard thinks that scene was important to him somehow, but he can't quite grasp it. He's vanished somewhere to brood on it, I think. I wish I could dissuade him; this has been unpleasant for me so far and I can't shake this feeling that it'll only get worse for everyone.  
...


	44. Day 168, Dec. 30th

I'm so confused. It's Jenny again. It's been more than a month now that she's been trying to get through Mr. FailJigsaw's thick skull. She's relentless. Even when she was running the whole Christmas thing as a distraction--for herself and others--I could tell where her focus really was. But suddenly, out of the blue, she's asked me to help her find a knitting magazine.  
Say WHAT?  
Yeah, she wants to knit a stuffed toy she used to have. This doesn't feel like another distraction so much as a complete change of focus.  
Which is...good...I guess? I mean, trying to talk to the brick wall John's put up between himself and everything else was really not good for her. Except I know Jenny's not the giving-up type, so I'm really not sure what to think of all this. Should I be worried about her? Or maybe I should be worried about HIM because she's setting up some scheme or other in her diabolically genius little head.  
Right. Well. I'm going to go to bed before I have to admit that I worry about him ANYWAY.  
Shit. Too late. Maybe if I mark it out really well I can unthink it?  
...


	45. Day 170, Jan. 1st

Happy New Year. I will die here.  
What? It's my journal, I'll be depressing if I want to.  
Not that I want to. I'm just so tired.  
...


	46. Day 171, Jan. 2nd

It seems Jenny's had some things to get off her chest. While she worked on her toy, she told me a bit about what her life has been like since her accident. I don't understand how she survived it. Locked up in the house, not allowed to go to school or have any contact with anyone...and if she got upset about being a prisoner in her own home, her mother would go into hysterics. Compared to that hell, this mansion must seem like true freedom. It's falling apart and the door handles bite, but she has a say over what she does and more importantly, she's allowed to remember her life. Even if the truth hurts. That idiot who calls herself Jenny's mother was so scared Jenny would find out about John that she smothered her.  
I wonder what Alice would think of that.  
...


	47. Day 172, Jan. 3rd

I should have known the calm wouldn't last. Jenny has been very pensive while she knits, telling me about her frustrating and restrictive existence of the past decade almost casually, as though such things aren't egregious violations of human rights worthy of rage. And she didn't seem upset when she told John it was mostly because of him that they'd locked her away.  
But of course he had to ruin it. He's the Puppeteer. I think he's a little terrified that Jenny will force him to be John again and then he'll have to deal with what happened to John. So he'll force her to play his little game any way he can, to get her to acknowledge him as the Puppeteer again.  
He made her go through a test in the hallway to find a set of stolen flatware. She seemed to take it in stride, but later I caught her trying to talk to the cameras and she looked upset, as though he'd been running her around in circles. I did what I could to distract her--an all-out snow war in the yard isn't bad for an act of desperation, and seeing Isami nail Ryan in the back of the head with a snowball pretty much cured all MY woes. Now she's in the living room helping Jim patch up the survivors. She keeps glancing at the cameras. I don't know what else to do.  
...


	48. Day 176, Jan. 7th

It got me.  
The flu, that is. I was down for a few days. Jim looked pretty relieved when I didn't argue, but to be honest the idea of spending several days in bed doing nothing and actually having a guilt-free excuse not to help anyone sounded like heaven to me.  
The doctor himself came to fetch me today, though. He was concerned about Jenny. It seems she's taken up residence in the children's room and hasn't come out much. I wonder if people only noticed because they started to go hungry, but that's uncharitable of me. I'm going with Jim to see if we can cheer up our Jenny.

Poor Jenny. She's trying to reconcile her friend John with the Puppeteer and she just can't manage it. She was even desperate enough to try asking Ryan, though I tried to tell her that wouldn't do any good. Ryan takes careful handling--you can't just go ask him for things. Besides that, he's aware that insofar as he can be said to have a relationship with P, it exists on the foundations of mutual indifference to each other's personal baggage. Ryan has already lost points by involving himself in the whole saving-Jack business. He's not about to go trying to psychoanalyze the psycho.  
I'd do it, if I wasn't afraid of overstepping my bounds. Our host is much, much more touchy about his personal life now that his little leading hints from before have backfired on him. So I'm not sure if I should mention my take on things to Jenny where he can hear.  
Okay, I admit that I just don't want to say anything and turn out to be wrong. Still, it seems logical to me. Jenny doesn't understand how John could change so much, but trauma has its own rulebook. The John who was Jenny's friend lost everybody and everything. He had no one to help him, no one to turn to, and he couldn't deal with the pain. The only way to get away from the trauma was to stop being the person who had experienced it. Which is impossible, of course. But that takes us back to "trauma has its own rulebook."  
I just hope Jenny can work things out for herself; after all, if anyone should be able to understand trauma, it's Jenny.  
...


	49. Day 177, Jan. 8th

Isami has decided that Jenny needs a parable to make her feel better. I remember the last parable Isami told, back when she was still Tan, and if this new one is like the old one then it'll probably be chock-full of insanity and also not very helpful. But in the interests of helping Isami get her favored room back, and not at all because I can't think of a damn thing else to do to help Jenny, I'm searching for the figurines Tan hid the parable in.  
Turns out figurines can get very, very lost in a year's time.  
...


	50. Day 180, Jan. 11th

Ryan pulled his Ryan thing today. You know the one. "There are saws in the yard. Bring them here."  
Looking at what he was working on, probably he needs a hacksaw, but he took THAT TONE with me so I'm going to troll him. There are indeed saws in the yard: rusty saws, bent saws, saws without handles, big saws, dull saws, wood saws, saws with missing teeth...  
Okay, so there are only like three saws out there but the important thing is that none of them is the hacksaw, which Jack keeps in the basement with all the other actually useful tools. Ryan's about to learn to be a bit more specific with me.  
...


	51. Day 181, Jan. 12th

Well, Ryan hasn't learned to stop asking me for things, but at least I got to laugh at him.  
The things he's asking for now, though, have me intrigued. A drill isn't out of the ordinary, but barbed wire? That's a little more extreme than what I've come to expect of you, Mr. Force. And you know, probably you owe me an explanation after all I went through to get you your drill back. Jack stole it, after all, and in his post-explosion-resurrected state he's more humorless than ever. Barely responded to my innuendos at all. He's just no fun anymore. So unless Jim starts putting out then you're my new entertainment. Better prepare yourself, Ryan.  
...And try not to use any barbed-wire devices on me. I don't need tetanus, thanks.  
...


	52. Day 183, Jan. 14th

Oh, Puppy. You're hilarious! "Made for getting in the way, being an eyesore and pulling useless pranks." We're here because you BROUGHT us here, John. If we get on your nerves, it's your own fault.  
Besides, I like the stupid little toy rats and ravens. Lance keeps tripping over them and that makes me laugh. I need a good laugh.  
As an added bonus, Jack is pissed. I mean EXTREMELY pissed. I don't like the edge of hopelessness to it, but he's angry and DOING something about it...like he used to.  
...


	53. Day 184, Jan. 15th

Ryan wants poison for his trap.  
Well, I'm assuming it's a trap. Not sure who or what he's trapping that he's serious enough to want poison, but I'm more concerned with his telling me to get it or a sleeping drug from Jim. I get that Jim hoards most of the chemicals in the house, but why do we need him for poison? I can cook up some fairly lethal shit just from Jenny's kitchen or Jack's squirreled-away chemical stash that he thinks I haven't found.  
Still, I think I'll do as I'm told and start rifling through Jim's stuff, just so I can have the pleasure of telling Ryan that OF COURSE I got caught and thrown out. What did he THINK would happen?

...Jim gave me the drug.  
I repeat. The doctor just handed over a freaking narcotic. He didn't even ask me what it was FOR.  
I don't even know what to SAY.  
...


	54. Day 185, Jan. 16th

Oh, Jack. I'm in tears. The kind you get when you're laughing too hard to breathe.  
You just have to laugh. It's too horrifying not to.  
He made a freaking clockwork Puppeteer. It's brilliant: a Puppeteer mannequin whose strings only manipulate HIMSELF. And then he put on a show in the living room: a proper satire. Beautiful. The Followers all got offended and walked out, and the Undergrounders were afraid to laugh--cowards. They've all turned cowardly since Bill took over, not that I think that's a bad thing since they wind up under Jim's care less often.  
But I digress. Jack KILLED it. Best show ever. And Puppy was not amused. He pulled that little "psh, that wasn't very good at all" thing that children do when they're feeling insecure but trying to hide it with swagger. I just hope he doesn't try for revenge. Jack burned him and he needs to accept it.  
Seriously. BURN.

Oh, right Ryan's probably-a-trap: now he wants tin, but I am SO not in a hurry to go picking through the rusty junk piled in the library. I've been meaning to clear all that out since I got into that room the first time--junk like that has no business in a library--but I can't remember when my last tetanus booster was and that's a good indication that I do not need to be touching rusty metal.  
Then again, I've already got every bloodborne disease that's been carried in by my fellow houseguests, so maybe lockjaw isn't the worst of my worries.  
...


	55. Day 186, Jan. 17th

By the way, Isami and I have been making progress with her figurines. They're in the form of ancient Chinese philosophers--interesting dudes. First one was the one who dreamed he was a butterfly, and when he woke up he wondered if the butterfly had been dreaming it was him. Next, Confucius--I'm not a huge fan of Confucius, to be honest. I studied Confucianism in college briefly and it really depressed me. Something about the idea of the entire universe being composed of bureaucracy made me want to stop existing.  
If that's even Confucianism. My memory's not the greatest these days, what with there being so much bullshit to focus on and not enough give-a-damn.  
Okay, so I'm not actually that into Chinese philosophers. They were, by and large, batshit insane. Give me Sun Tzu over the dude who made his own death into a paradox. At least the Art of War made sense.  
Speaking of books Jack should read....  
Isami has assembled the bamboo strips she'd hidden in the figurines. I'm not sure why she needed to hide her parables; was Act I such a madhouse that they'd even steal crappy Aesops? But whatever floats her boat. I'm not really competent to help her refurbish the characters on the strips, so I think I'll go start picking through tin sheets, then get tired of that and sit down to reread the Tao te Ching.  
Hey, I know me. I plan for not staying on task, that way no one is disappointed.  
...


	56. Day 188, Jan. 19th

While I've been worried about Jack (a little better) and Jenny (not so much better, but I can't think of anything other than harassing her until she pretends to be okay), Isami has been worried about Ryan. Turns out he didn't tell her what this trap project is about. Usually he actually does talk to her, so I can see where this would be a concern.

Well THAT was fun.  
Isami took a page out of Jenny's book and dragged me to the attic to force Ryan to talk. Only Ryan wasn't there. So we used my tried-and-true method of summoning him: snooping through his stuff. Sure enough he appeared out of thin air directly behind us just as soon as we discovered his secret cache.  
She finally forced him to tell us what he's up to--making a trap, which was obvious--but in return he wanted to know why Isami trusts me. Well, since the reason is that the ghosts have decided I'm their freaking get-out-of-limbo-free card, Ryan wasn't convinced and he definitely isn't happy with Isami. He hates "mysticism" despite the proof he's seen with his own two eyes.  
I hope this doesn't cause problems between them. I can tell they're close, and as reserved as they both are they probably can't afford to be losing close friends.  
I digress. Ryan did give me some information, Ryan-style: abrupt and lacking in detail because I'm supposed to divine things out of the ether or something. But the gist is that Isami and Ryan's old partner, the Monkey, has gotten into the house. Something about this third apprentice bothers Ryan enough to make him want to lay a trap laced with drugs or poison...that bothers ME. Ryan isn't exactly the easy-to-rattle sort. He's easy to ANNOY, but he doesn't seem annoyed now. He seems almost afraid. Don't ask me how I can tell...just something around his eyes when he talked about the Monkey made me very paranoid indeed.  
...


	57. Day 190, Jan. 21st

What the hell is Tan THINKING? NO. Just NO. Her parables are always a little off, but this one is  
I just want to SLAP HER. With a brick! Why would she even remotely think this was a good idea?  
She takes a girl who is essentially in mourning over a lost friend, and tells her this stupid story about a benevolent ruler whose rival asked a sorcerer to curse him, so the sorcerer took away the ruler's happiness which caused him to lose his mind and become a tyrant. BUT MAGICALLY some random girl who luuuuurved him took him in and through the power of FEELS restored him to what he used to be.  
Guys. Just so we're clear. NOWHERE IN THE REAL WORLD DOES THE POWER OF LOVE HEAL TRAUMA. Nowhere. This is the worst trope ever. Because now Jenny has it in her head that she can get her friend back.  
I don't deny that someone dedicated, someone who loves him, might help steady him if he WANTS to try to work through his trauma. But he's never going to be like he was. And what happens when she can't even get him to try?  
I'm just so disgusted with Tan right now. I never thought she'd go and make a problem WORSE.  
...


	58. Day 191, Jan. 22nd

For once, I agree with Jim. I found Jenny's notebooks for her because the poor girl is down in bed with anemia. Jim won't let her pass any more tests for a while, partly for her health and partly--I suspect--because he wants to stop her from going down this road if he can. And I think he's finally gotten something right. He says it wasn't right to tell Jenny "fairy tales about saving someone like that," but that there's nothing we can do now. He's right about that too. Jenny's got this stupid, awful idea in her head and there's no stopping her.  
Sometimes I think what this house really is is a hell for stubborn people. Like we're all dead and our sin was never listening to other people's good sense and now our punishment is to make people who care about us watch us destroy ourselves over and over again forever.  
Has Stephen King written that one yet?  
...


	59. Day 192, Jan.23rd

She won't listen to me. Nor to Jim. He asked why she needs all this old school stuff, and she says that she remembered her past by finding mementos, so maybe John will remember himself if she finds things to remind him.  
The difference is that Jenny WANTED to remember. I tried to explain that, but she's not hearing it.  
...


	60. Day 193, Jan.24th

Isami has wisely stayed out of my way for the past few days, but now she's cropped up again with an interesting question: if I have helped the ghosts, why are they still here? I hadn't paid them much mind since they all seemed content after I recovered their memories for them. I thought they stayed out of choice. Isami says that's not how it works.  
So...we're off to see the druid. Ugh.

Not that I forgot, but I still have a fresh appreciation for how much I despise that old geezer. Isami says he's "wise," but I don't see it. What he is is depressing.  
He says the chains that bind him and the others to this place are from a curse, and that they can never be broken. More doom and gloom from our resident Gloom-Monger-in-Chief. Tan says he's wrong: that chains that can't be broken can still be unlocked with the key. So we need to find the key.  
Somehow I get the feeling that nasty maiden is behind this.  
...


	61. Day 194, Jan.25th

Watching the ghost of a dead warrior hit on Isami was entertaining, but Willem was ultimately useless as usual. I'd have gone to Filida first and without delay, if I was running this show. And sure enough, when we reached her, she pointed us in the right direction: three souls freed from their geises, but bound by a curse. A fourth soul never freed. And now we have to go and talk to that nasty bitch.

That was as unpleasant as expected. Alastriona tried to help her people, but a raid destroyed her work and she barely survived. She wrought a curse as vengeance...but why it affects Filida, and Willem, and Arlene, I have no idea. Isami wants to look further into her death, to see if there are more clues.  
...


	62. Day 196, Jan.27th

Leonard has shown up again. He thought he might have remembered something new, so he asked me for help. I located a ghostly quill pen for him--pardon the ink blots, by the way, but writing with a left-handed ghost pen was just too big a temptation to resist. It actually works, as long as my hands are cold.  
I'm guessing the quill being for a left-handed person is significant. Leonard made a big deal of it; otherwise I wouldn't even have noticed since I AM left-handed and so it didn't feel wrong to me.  
He wants to go through Madame Lynette's boudoir, but I'm having a hard time visualizing it. I've never met Lynette--her ghost exists purely in Leonard's memory, as far as I know--so I have no connection to exploit the way I do with Arlene and the other ancients. As annoying as I'm starting to find Leonard...hell, as annoying as ghosts are in general in this house! It's going to be a trial to spend that much time concentrating on his memories.  
...


	63. Day 198, Jan.29th

Lynette wasn't a very nice woman. And I say that as a person who normally admires not-nice people. I don't think I'll find much to admire in this old bat, though.  
It looks like Leonard's story starts with his aristocratic family going broke. He had to sign on as Lynette's servant. Not an enviable position, it seems. Then there's Lynette's step-daughter, Marie. She walked in during one of the memories Leonard tried to manifest, and I could tell she was trouble. The Hollywood kind of trouble. Leonard's still trying to remember, but I still can't see this going anywhere pleasant.  
Can I just go back to the beginning? When I flip open the front of this journal, I'm about ninety percent likely to land on a fantasy about threesomes with the Fairwood brothers, or some half-amused description of the latest curio hunt with Jenny, or at worst some frustration over Tan being more popular than me. It was all so simple, despite everything.  
Now I'm struggling with this bizarre desire to save my captor, worrying that that same desire is going to destroy Jenny, paranoid that Jack and Jim aren't really out of the woods, FURIOUS with Tan, despairing of ever seeing the outside of this house again...there are ancient curses, lingering traumas, new aches and pains I'm worried won't go away because I've lost too much blood too many times...and the lurking spectre of the Monkey. I'm not even sure why I'm afraid of this creep. Is he even real?  
Maybe it's time to go to bed for a while...try to stave off the paranoia. Or I could hit the books with Isami. She's still delving into the history of Alastriona's time period, trying to figure out what the bitch did exactly and how to fix it.  
Or I could barge in on Ryan and see if he'll put me to work. He usually does if I dare to venture too close to him.  
Or I'll go through the rooms one more time looking for Jenny's old school things, because even though this quest she's set herself is stupid and dangerous, I can't let her go into it by herself. Someone needs to be there to pick up the pieces when it all goes south.  
Or...I wonder if Jim will let me just sit with him for a while. If I just sit and make perverted insinuations like I used to, maybe he'll understand.  
...


	64. Day 199, Jan.30th

Ryan's cropped up out of the woodwork once again. He wants an extra set of hands to help complete his trap. Why he can't get Tan to help him, I don't--scratch that, she's buried in her research. Even her "Dragon" probably doesn't dare disturb her when she's focused like this.  
At any rate, the trap is finished and it looks nasty indeed. Ryan set it in the bedroom, because technically that room is part of the "other half" of the house that the rest of us aren't allowed to access for whatever idiot reason P. cooked up in his tiny demented brain. Monkey doesn't venture into our half, but Ryan hopes to catch him in the bedroom.  
I hope we don't wind up catching Alice instead.  
...


	65. Day 201, Feb.1st

We didn't catch Alice. Actually, I haven't even seen Alice in a while. Bill, either. Both factions have been very quiet...it's unnerving.  
Know what else we didn't catch? The Monkey. Instead, he nearly caught US. Thank god for Ryan's freakishly good reflexes.  
So Ryan comes to fetch me, right. Which is already kind of unsettling because the last time this man went out of his way to acquire my presence, I ended up dying. Sort of.  
I got better.  
...Okay, now I'm thoroughly ashamed of myself, and yet still contemplating flinging that reference at Puppy just to watch it sail over his head.  
I get that the guy was in prison for a long time, but he's been out long enough that he should have been able to watch some damn TV. Surf the net a little. Get some pop culture. and yet, unless I happen to mention literature or crappy horror, our Puppeteer is the MASTER of Not Getting the Reference.  
Yeah, I'm a little wired. Getting shot at will do that to you. Before I sidetracked myself, I was saying that Ryan came to fetch me because the alarm for his trap went off.  
This bothered me for two reasons, the first being the aforementioned unpleasant deja vu. The second involved my deep-seated distrust of anything illogical. Ryan is a fairly large man, at least compared to most of the other people in this house. So why exactly is he fetching a five-foot-tall woman to help him with the presumably-unconscious monkey man? More importantly, he did not seem to know who or what had triggered the trap. Why? He has more surveillance equipment than Big Brother and I'm pretty sure he never sleeps. Shouldn't he have done some reconnaissance before coming to get me?  
So needless to say I'm a bit nervy by the time we get to the bedroom.  
Bow chicka--ok, just because we went to the bedroom doesn't make it risque, I KNOW. I told you I was wound up.  
We get to the bedroom, and the trap is...you guessed it. Empty. Bloody, but empty. So Ryan goes to find the end of the trip wire to see what went wrong, when BOOM.  
Slightly less dramatic than the last BOOM I wrote about, but still nerve-wracking as hell. The Monkey had attached the tripwire to a musket, which fired and actually grazed Ryan's temple. A little further to the right and we might have had problems.  
I might have had problems if Ryan hadn't jerked me out of the way. This Monkey dude doesn't mess around.  
And Ryan's back to square one, I think.  
...


	66. Day 202, Feb.2nd

Jenny caught wind of the trap and dragged me to the attic...I guess so I could listen to her lecture Ryan about his evil ways or something. I didn't understand her objections, personally. She doesn't KNOW this Monkey guy, so how does she know a trap like that isn't necessary? I don't know that it IS necessary, of course, but for all that Ryan is a seriously sketchy mofo, I trust his judgement.  
...I trust it in THIS particular. He's a Dire Straits fan, so...  
Who am I kidding. Dire Straits is great.

Well, I was busy dancing and belting out "Sultans of Swing" just to see if P would say anything. He didn't. Someone else must be doing something interesting in the house.  
But before I distracted myself, I was....right. Criticizing Jenny. She started to get onto Ryan and he snapped at her like he usually does...and she shut up.  
Yeah, shocked the hell out of me. And worried me. Jenny's still on the hunt for mementos of her past friendship with John. Any out-of-the-ordinary behavior from her bothers me because I'm afraid this manic search for the right random curio to 'save' him could turn back into depression at any moment.  
I'm almost starting to wonder if Ryan's involving me in his projects more lately because it distracts me from Jenny's problems. He's not exactly the type to care if I drive myself crazy, but at the same time, that kind of sideways helping-without-helping trick is just his style.  
He's building a crossbow now, by the way. I'm excited.  
...


	67. Day 203, Feb.3rd

It's just dawned on me. It's february. And Jenny is a holiday fiend.  
I can't even count on her being distracted by her mission, since that all has to do with her childhood sweetheart.  
Valentine's Day. Oh, God, the absolute horror.  
...


	68. Day 204, Feb.4th

I've been wondering if I should do something for Valentine's Day. Like grow a pair and tell Jim I'm not exactly kidding when I come onto him.  
Or not. I mean nearly bleeding to death is one thing. And trying to trap potentially dangerous strangers. And chilling with ghosts almost daily. But confessing to a crush--now THAT'S scary.  
Plus I hate the term "crush" but every other word is way too intimidating.  
I'm pathetic.  
...


	69. Day 205, Feb.5th

I talked to my best girlfriend about it. He said maybe I should send an anonymous valentine, or make something for all of my friends to avoid singling anyone out.  
Life is hard when Lance is your best girlfriend.  
...


	70. Day 208, Feb.8th

Found out more of Leonard's story. Or rather, Marie's. She wanted out of the house so badly, because she felt stifled and also because her parents died there and she was afraid she'd die there too. She wrote a letter to her uncle pleading for him to let her stay with him, but she wanted to hide it from Lynette. Interesting, since Lynette is permissive enough to allow Marie's friendship with Leonard...there must be some unpleasantness I haven't seen yet, because so far the old hag strikes me as a cold, selfish bitch but not so terrible that the kid would need to escape without her knowing.  
...


	71. Day 209, Feb.9th

Oh, fuck YOU, Alastriona.  
Yes, Leonard could be lying. I have no proof that the scenes he showed me actually happened. But you're an absolute twat, so why should I let you plant doubt in my mind?  
Except you don't LET someone plant doubt. It's an entirely nonconsensual act.  
God I hate that bitch.  
...I'll forget what this is about later if I don't write it down. Leonard tried to show me a dinner he sort of remembers, but it failed. Filida said it was because it was in a ground-floor room, where the memory of her time is too strong to allow Leonard's time to show through. So Leo wanted me to ask the other ghosts if they happened to witness the event. Alastriona implied he's lying...Willem was totally useless, as usual...but what worries me is that Filida couldn't help. Filida ALWAYS helps.  
And now I have to talk to Arlene. Ugh.

Crisis averted. Arlene remembers something that more or less verifies that Leonard isn't lying. That is, if Arlene can be trusted. Which I doubt, since he's a curse-laying BASTARD.  
...


	72. Day 212, Feb.12th

Someone graffitied the house with fluorescent pink hearts. P is PISSED.  
He gets angry every time someone damages the house, but I'm having fun pretending he's just angry that someone decorated for Valentine's Day and didn't send him any flowers or dramatic declarations of love. I asked him if he's a closet romantic and then spent a great deal of time presenting "evidence" that he has a massive crush on Jack.  
I will bleed for this later, but it is SO worth it.  
...


	73. Day 213, Feb.13th

It may have been the approach of the dread holiday, but I've been getting nervous....well, more than usual. I more or less assembled that crossbow for Ryan myself--must have done a good job because he didn't even mock me, which in retrospect should have been grounds to test him and make sure he's not an impostor. But once the thing was built, Ryan disappeared and hasn't said anything since about whether he's come up with a way to get the Monkey in his sights.  
Tan must be having a lot of trouble finding the right books, but she hasn't asked me for help. Jenny's careening around doing...Jenny things. Whatever it is, I'm not in on it.  
And I haven't seen Alice, but I FEEL her lurking. Bill too. Like whatever they were up to, they suddenly decided they still want to drag me into it and they're just waiting for the right moment to pounce.  
I'm almost looking forward to it...oh god, I just realized what my problem is.  
No one's asking me for shit. I got so used to it, and now they're all doing their own thing. I'M BORED!  
....god help me if P. finds out. He'll find a way to entertain me, I'm sure.  
Screw it, I'm gonna go ask Jim to be my Valentine. At least if I die of embarrassment I won't be bored.

I did not chicken out. I want that on record. I did NOT chicken out. I was simply intercepted.  
Chester caught me on my way out and asked to talk. I tend to avoid him on account of his being a weaselly little shit, and also on account of me irrationally blaming him for the bomb incident, but he said it was important and I DID claim to be bored.  
It seems my dear friend Chester has been running interference for me; he's kept the new faction leaders off my back by keeping them apprised of my activities and convincing them there's nothing I can do he can't do better.  
Which is true. But since the universe hates me, no one else sees that.  
Anyway, he's been searching for the cache in the bedroom to no avail. Being one of P's favorites (for no reason I can yet fathom) has always helped me find the caches faster and generally the payoffs are bigger when I do. So Chester and his overlords have found fuckall.  
According to Chester, Bill thinks old Barney's notes are in that cache. Alice doesn't care what's in there, so long as nobody does anything useful with it. She wants everyone to follow the rules and obediently learn P's lesson.  
His lesson is utterly nonsensical, but there's no convincing HER of that.  
Factions. Bah. I'd been kind of getting used to being true-neutral again--lately I've had almost zero contact with faction members outside of purely social settings (read: me annoying Lance while he's trying to read or working Nat into a frothing rage by asking her what she thinks her and Lance's children will look like). Jim rarely asks me for anything these days and I haven't even SEEN Jack in over a week. I've been focusing almost entirely on Ryan, Isami, Jenny, and the various ghosts. A blissfully faction-free existence.  
No more. Chester has his ear to the ground and he hears trouble. Damned factions are determined to create more problems for everyone. Why can't they see they're just making it harder to get out of here?  
Never mind. Chester asked me to look for the cache and come to him first when I find it, and despite not fully trusting him, I think that's what I'll do. Alice is completely nuts but she isn't stupid, so I'll need a little help getting around her.  
...


	74. DIARY RESUMES: Day 214, Feb.14th

Guess who actually FORGOT about Valentine's day?  
Yeah, me. I went through the bedroom cache because as it turns out all these puzzle pieces I've been bringing back and just tossing into a pile without looking at them? Yeah, they formed the complete puzzle-map to a cache in the bedroom. (It's behind the mirror. The triggers are in the chandelier and the night-light.)  
But Chester is not the miracle-worker I'd come to expect him to be. I had just stepped into the bedroom to check out the triggers--always a good idea to do that before shutting the door and initiating one of P's insanely annoying cache tests--when Bill and Alice both appeared behind me like....well, like extra-obnoxious ghosts. I was going to mention Ryan in this context but I don't think Ryan has ever made me quite so angry quite so quickly.  
I mean, he probably has, but I've forgotten.  
Anyway, they accosted me with talk of "mind vs. brute force" and "being confined to your role or fighting to escape." I told them both to gtfo. I did not put up with this shit from the Fairwood brothers, and I actually LIKE them. These two nut cases aren't even fun to tease, so I'm not about to take shit off of them.  
And besides that, it's not even as though they have a point. They're both just saying whatever they think has the best chance of manipulating me into doing what they want, but clearly neither one knows me well enough to push the right buttons.  
I'm not sure anyone in this house outside of the Puppeteer himself really KNOWS which buttons to push, actually. I think everyone else just stumbles across them accidentally and then has no idea why I reacted the way I did.  
Okay, I'm rambling awfully. Long story short, I didn't go through the cache because those faction leaders don't deserve my help. If Chester wants what's in that cache, he'll have to get it himself.  
...


	75. Day 217, Feb.17th

Chester caught on that I'm sulking and came to ask me what's up. I told him I'm tired of factions. Which is true. I never wanted to be in one, even though it sort of wound up happening anyway as far as everyone besides me was concerned. They just cause problems and get in the way, exactly like P. said. You'd think ALICE at least would listen to him on that point, but she's the type of fanatic that only sees what she wants to see. God help us all if she ever gets disillusioned with P. and he stops being able to control her.  
Despite the fact that I did less explaining than I did ranting, Chester was very sympathetic. Says he's never thought it fair how everyone runs to me for everything. I haven't decided yet whether I'm offended by his subtext of "what's so special about YOU anyway?" I mean, I've wondered the same thing when I'm exhausted from running all over the house trying to find six different things for everyone in the freaking house. But still. There's a difference between knowing something yourself and having someone else point it out, you know?  
God, I really have to get this tangent-chasing problem under control. Maybe I'll go back and rewrite this whole diary for kicks...take out the bullshit and just straight report the facts.  
By which I mean LIE about EVERYTHING.  
Where was I.  
Right. Chester said that he'd always viewed me as a sort of half-assed double agent. Passing information and materials or helping both sides as needed to benefit everyone. Mostly me, but everyone else as, you know, an added bonus. Which is incidentally how Chester claims HE operates.  
You can see where this is going.  
Chester offered to be the double agent this time around. Since I get along better with Bill than with Alice, and because it might give me more chances to keep an eye on Jack, Chester suggested I join the Underground while he himself tries to get closer to Alice.  
Bill isn't as extreme as Jack was in leading the Underground, so that might be an arrangement I can live with.  
We'll have to figure out how to play this cache thing. Alice will be on a warpath if I just open the cache and give whatever's in it to Bill. Plus Chester has been Underground this whole time and he'll need to gain her confidence somehow if he's going to switch factions. Those two got along pretty well when they were looking for the doll collection, but they aren't exactly bosom buddies.  
...


	76. Day 218, Feb.18th

Plan acquired. I showed Chester the puzzle for the bedroom cache. It'll put P. out because he doesn't like it when someone finds the cache without assembling the puzzle themselves, but P. needs to learn he can't always get what he wants. Chester's going to go through the cache and see what's in there...I'm going to sit right here and enjoy not having to do everything for everybody.  
Maybe Chester can be Feather. Wouldn't that be nice?

Well, Chester went through the cache, and it's...weird. A thick packet of papers shoved clear back to the back as though someone was hoping we'd miss it...and a single thin envelope right up front, marked 'A.'  
The packet contained papers covered in code, so those might or might not be what Bill's looking for. If they are, it raises a bunch of questions. Like, did P. put those papers in that cache, and if he did, why? If he didn't, why didn't he take them out when he put in the 'A' envelope? Why does P do ANYTHING? Seriously. The man gives out sensitive information like it's freaking candy. Then he gets all flustered and angry when we know things that HE TOLD US HIMSELF.  
Just.  
AGH.  
MEN.  
Right, so anyway, I'm going to wait till tomorrow and give this packet to Bill. Chester's going to run the envelope to Alice tonight and claim he stole it because he was afraid I'd make 'the wrong choice' and destroy it or give it to Bill. With any luck, she'll accept him into her crazy cult and he WON'T proceed to go totally batshit. Never mind that for him "Batshit" is not that long a trip.  
...


	77. Day 219, Feb.19th

Not much comment from Bill. Not that I gave him much of a chance to comment. I think in a less literal world, I'd have actually had a black cloud of annoyance swirling around me as I stalked down the basement stairs. Despite having planned this, I still don't want to actually join a faction. At least Bill really seems like he could give a shit less if I participate or not. He just took the papers, thanked me rather insincerely, refused to react to my evil facial expression, and went back to whatever he was doing. I was able to get out without even saying anything.  
Hit up Isami on the way back to my room. She's frustrated--not that that's easy to read on her. But apparently the book she needs is in a room no one has managed to open yet. Her 'Apprentice' status isn't enough to get her into locked rooms, especially now that she's defected and rejoined the puppets, so she's having to put her research on hold. Puppy doesn't believe in mysticism, so she has no valid argument to get the room opened ahead of schedule. I guess I'll look into it...  
...


	78. Day 222, Feb.22nd

Jack showed up out of nowhere and scared the living hell out of me. He wanted me to come to a super-secret meeting in the basement with him and his brother.  
He had me interested until I saw that Bill was there too. Sighing heavily and telling Jack that he really shouldn't tease a poor girl like that garnered no reaction from the brothers, but Bill laughed till he choked. Turns out he's a perv too. I think I might start to like him if he's not careful.  
Anyway, Jack wanted to discuss escape plans. When he said that, I got up and started to walk out. And by "walk out" I mean search for a crowbar so I can beat some sense into that bastard. Jim wisely stopped me while Bill tried the 'voice of reason' approach, reminding Jack about the whole you-died-of-stupid-once thing.  
Jack's brilliant answer to this was that his new idea isn't explosive. He just wants to try climbing up the chimney. WHAT?  
Oh, yeah. Getting stuck in a chimney and either starving or getting smoked to death is WAY better than being blown into the afterlife by a bomb. GREAT WORK JACK. KEEP IT UP.  
...


	79. Day 223, Feb.23rd

So I'm in the library, waiting for it to dawn on those bozos that this is the only room with a big enough fireplace that also happens to be close to the roof. My money is on Jim figuring it out first, but we'll see.

Sure enough, there he is. When I teased him about changing his profession to chimney sweep, he said Bill is a little old to be crawling into fireplaces, and Jack's in no condition....which depresses me, to be honest. Jack's healing so slowly it makes me scared his stupid escape attempt has crippled him for life.  
Either way, I'm glad Jim didn't ask ME to crawl up there. I've lost some weight due to the rabbit-food diet P has us on, but there's no taming the Westley badonkadonk. I won't fit up there and if the good doctor suggested I would, it would mean he hasn't been paying enough attention. I would be very sad if Jim has never checked out my-------

He got stuck.  
I repeat: Jim got stuck. In the chimney. I was writing to pass the time until the screaming started, and then....well, the screaming started. Except not screaming. Actually he sounded kind of sheepish. It was adorable up until I had to crawl into the fireplace and pull him out by his feet. He slammed into my chest and we both went tumbling to the floor shoujo-manga style.  
As it turns out, outside of a fictional setting, having someone you're attracted to land on top of you in a suggestive pose is not so much cute and/or tittilating as it is painful. Doc Fairwood is freaking BONY, man. Damn, I thought I'd never get my breath back. I didn't even manage an innuendo. I was too busy trying not to die.  
Needless to say, we declared the chimney idea a bust.  
...


	80. Day 224, Feb.24th

Now they want to bust through the walls. Like no one has tried busting through the walls before. God almighty, what am I going to do with these boys.  
I think I'll just wait in my room until they figure out it's not going to work. I'm just....exhausted, to tell the truth, and I'm done going along with every silly Fairwood plot.  
Maybe I'll see what Chester's up to.  
...


	81. Day 227, Feb.27th

The boys are still prying away at any perceived crack in P's fortress. I'm still blithely pretending to help but actually just wandering off as soon as nobody's watching me. Sort of poking around a little bit to see if I can find hints of a locked room and/or annoy P into saying something leading. No such luck.  
...


	82. Day 228, Feb.28th

Jim came to find me today. He seemed concerned about something and asked me to come with him to the library...but it was only Alice losing what's left of her mind.

I suppose Alice used to perform in the circus. She was tossing a cane around like a pro... Chester said the sight of that thing when they found it in the library closet really startled her. She said a name--Samantha--and has been preoccupied with finding circus relics ever since. She's really keeping him busy. I don't envy him. The way things are now, I get to do things like read books and take naps...quiet, peaceful times in my room. P has largely given up on needling me.  
...


	83. Day 230, March 2nd

God help us, now they want to try busting out through the roof. You can go out into the yard and tell by looking that that's a fool's errand, but....I don't know. Maybe I'm coming up with excuses. I really should just try to help instead of sitting here in my room feeling guilty about how useless I feel (because didn't I WANT everyone to stop depending on me so much?)...  
...


	84. Day 232, March 4th

Beautiful flowers have begun showing up in the rooms. There was even a small bouquet of daffodils on my bedside table when I woke this morning.  
I hadn't noticed how much darker and heavier the atmosphere has been in this house until I realized how much lighter it is today. Jenny's so excited, even though she's concerned with how much blood our kind flower-fairy must be losing to scatter flowers all over the house just so everyone can have fun collecting them.  
Hell, I caught NAT arranging flowers just after lunch. She was hideously embarrassed, like it's some kind of mortal sin to like violets. But I just thought it was cute.  
And...well, the fact that it felt weird for me to smile tells you enough. Daffodils are my favorite. I needed that.  
...


	85. Day 233, March 5th

Everyone's still finding flowers. There are bouquets in every room, garlands on the ceiling, petals on the tabletops. Jenny has gone from concerned to alarmed, and wants to find our mystery flower-person. Partially to thank him/her and partially to make sure s/he is still ALIVE.  
We asked the Fairwoods first, even though it's silly to think either of them would be involved. Jack's far too manly to be scattering flowers everywhere! That basket we found him holding is just, um, well obviously he picked it up because BASKETS ARE USEFUL! No other reason!  
Jim (and Jack too, despite my teasing) is too busy helping with Bill's stupid roof excavation plan to organize something like this. Plus, I've seen them both recently and they're clearly still in possession of most of their bodily fluids.  
Not for long, if they keep clattering about in Ryan's attic. But that's beside the point.

Speaking of Ryan, Jenny tried asking him too. He said he knows who's doing it, but he won't tell us who. The specific brand of annoyance on his face gives me a clue, though. Who's stealthy enough to pull off something like this--even sneaking into my room without waking me up, which in case you didn't know is nigh impossible? Who pays enough attention to detail to know which flowers are each person's favorite? And who can actually make Ryan look vaguely CONCERNED?  
Exactly.  
We found just such a person passed out in the hallway a few moments ago. Poor Tan...I've never seen her so pale. Jenny had to run and fetch Jim so he could give her some meds. Now Jenny's in the kitchen making a nice iron-rich dinner and I'm watching Ryan pretend he's not hovering over his beloved. It's freaking adorable.  
...


	86. Day 234, March 6th

Isami asked me to finish up her little flower event for her. She's lost too much blood to continue it herself but she doesn't want to disappoint anyone. Hell, I don't either. Who'd have thought a bunch of dying flowers could make a houseful of prisoners so happy....  
Well, this is going to be unpleasant. But if everyone is smiling and at least partially distracted from their troubles, I have to do it.  
...


	87. Day 237, March 9th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I feel as though I should drop a TW in here somewhere for depression, as Feather's is getting quite a bit worse through this time period. Just be aware.

Well, I finished Isami's flower event. Of course, I was down in bed for a couple of days afterward. I'm not entirely sure it was just blood loss. I just felt so...blah. Couldn't find a reason to get out of bed.  
Oh, it seems Isami's little flower trick gave someone in the house ideas. We've all begun finding shamrocks scattered everywhere. Jenny's delighted. I think any second now someone will suggest a leprechaun hunt.  
...Maybe *I* should be the someone.  
...


	88. Day 239, March 11th

Less than a week till Booze Day--ah, I mean, St. Patrick's. Puppy has shut down the intercoms because people keep harassing him about green beer. I've listened to more than one rant about people thinking he's running a resort here and how he's going to teach them a lesson etc. etc.  
I was more bored than amused. I think I spent the majority of the time nodding and going 'uh-huh' while doodling in my journal. I wonder if Jack and Bill have made progress with their silly bust-through-the-roof plan. Pretty sure Jim gave up.  
I think right there is where I should have made some sort of crack about now being the perfect time to go ask Jim for a pelvic exam, but meh. Think I'll take a nap.  
...


	89. Day 240, March 12th

Battle of the Ravens woke me up today. The library isn't actually that far from my room, and when Alice is angry she doesn't seem to realize her volume has gone up. Jim's "Reasonable Adult" voice isn't loud, but it carries, and anything that carries in the library carries straight through the baseboards of my walls.  
It continues to baffle me how few people consider the acoustics of the house, given how paranoid most of them are about being overheard.  
Anyway, Alice wanted Jim to do something about something, and he refused. He either wanted to be paid in information--the filthy whore--or wanted to actually be given enough information to do the task properly--ludicrous! Either way Alice was not pleased, and Chester scurried into my room a while later looking like he's been on the receiving end of a verbal flogging. He explained that Alice has been following a series of riddles that seem to pertain to her past in the circus, with the artifacts she finds always reminding her of a particular colleague who taught her something important. Reminders of some shady-as-fuck clown named Darby gave her the bright idea to appeal to Jim, which....well honestly, when does Jim just open right up and play the helpful sidekick?  
NEVER, that's fucking when. I have pried at the edges of that clamshell for MONTHS and gotten barely anywhere. (What? Me, bitter? No, never!)  
So I may have laughed at Chester and told him to pass my good-luck wishes on to the crazy bitch.  
...


	90. Day 243, March 15th

Lance sought me out today, rather baffled.  
It seems Chester and Alice have opened the conservatory.  
He asked if I'd been helping them, which seems like an odd thing to ask if you forget that I used to be a step or two ahead of most of the others in Puppy's little game.  
Used to be. That's...I don't know how I feel about that.  
...


	91. Day 245, March 17th

Sounds like the house is really gearing up for a party. I can hear the worst-ever band practising downstairs. Green ale has in fact showed up in the kitchen from some unknown source. Shamrocks EVERYWHERE.  
I have no intention of drinking the ale, but I'd bet anything that I can find something stouter if I really look. Maybe if I scare up a bottle of Irish whisky and a couple of friends to drink it with, I can shake off this funk for a while and try to get back into the swing of things....  
....ah, what the hell, let's have a pervy thought for old times' sake. Maybe if I get enough whisky down the Fairwoods, I can wake up tomorrow in a VERY good mood?  
...


	92. Day 248, March 20th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *New TW for excessive drinking and an implied maybe-suicide attempt. Also: this never happened in the game, so don't be confused if quests for over-celebrating St. Paddy's to the extent of probably-accidental self-harm never come up!

I found a liquor store and I drank it.  
Okay, I found a bottle of double malt. And drank it.  
There was vomiting. And a little bit of coma, I think. It's not really clear.  
Jim is pissed. And I mean that in the non-British sense where he's not drunk, he's goddamn FURIOUS. Apparently he thinks it was a suicide attempt.  
I mean, it might have been. But like I said, it's not very clear. There are genetic factors. I might not have been aiming for DEATH-death, just...you know, if it's there I almost HAVE to drink it. Once I get started, that is. I had the whole bottle to myself, so I just.....

Sorry, had to stop for a while. This whole day has been nothing but a series of extremely uncomfortable conversations. First thing I really remember after the whole...series-of-what-the-hells that led to my recent condition....is finding Jim at my bedside. He did all the usual doctorly stuff like ask me how I'm feeling, whether I can see him ok, if I can sit up and perform the various little monkey tricks that determine whether my brain and body are still functioning at more or less their usual capacity....then he got this TONE in his voice that set off every alarm I've GOT. It was without a doubt the weirdest I've ever heard him sound....he was going for his usual 'Don't Worry, I'm a Doctor and It's My Job to Be Understanding' tone but it had razor blades hidden in unexpected places.  
He asked me why I did it, basically. I'd just figured out what he meant and was working up to a nice indignant response when Jack burst in. He'd apparently heard I was awake and was there to DEMAND ANSWERS. So I just explained to him that I found some whisky and went to see if anyone would have a drink or five with me, but everyone I could find was busy so I just decided to drink by myself. Which is perfectly logical if you ask me and just because I forgot to take into account my habit of not stopping until the booze is GONE does NOT make it a suicide attempt--but I didn't get that far with my explarantion, because when I said everyone was busy, you'd have thought I'd shot both of the Fairwoods. They both leaped on the idea that I tried to off myself because they're not paying enough attention to me, which is a) stupid and b) really kind of insulting for all the people who DID off themselves because no one thought to check on them and talk them through some of the more awful aspects of living in this house....come to think of it, I wonder how many suicides these two have taken onto their consciences. Jack makes a show of placing the blame squarely on P's shoulders where it belongs, but I know both Fairwoods are prone to guilt.....  
I just hope this doesn't turn into some huge melodrama. I'm alive, probably sans a good portion of my liver, and we all have too much to do to make a big thing of it.  
...


	93. Day 250, March 22nd

They're making a big thing of it.  
Not overtly, but it has NOT escaped my notice, JIM, that I'm only alone anymore when I'm taking a piss, and the only alcohol I seem to be able to lay hands on is the wine I occasionally steal from Ryan, who thinks this whole suicide-watch thing is complete bullshit. Ryan, by the way, is my new favorite person in the house...aside from Puppy, who saw the whole thing and KNOWS I'm not suicidal. Jesus, people, lighten up. What would you do without Feather anyway? I would not deprive you all of my precious self.  
Anyway, Jack finally managed to stop ranting long enough to let me know that the roof escape plan was a bust. They partially have that to thank for finding my alcohol-soaked ass comatose on my bedroom floor, apparently. Puppy mentioned me in his vague, not-just-coming-out-and-saying-I-need-help way, which led to Jim thinking to come update me on what was going on, and the rest is highly awkward history.  
Jack's a bit depressed, too, now that he's seen for himself that the roof isn't a viable escape option. I asked if he'd like to take the overnight shift so we can cheer each other up and he got all blushy and stammery. It was much cuter than his usual trick of either pretending not to understand me or reminding me he has a girlfriend.  
I would have pursued it...maybe even asked him to invite his brother along...you know, even if I can't guilt them into a threesome, teasing like this is just like old times before I went off the rails so maybe it'll reassure them a little and I can get my goddamn privacy back. But guess who decided to show up?  
Leonard, our dear Elder Ghost, apparently had NO IDEA how long he'd been gone chasing his own past through the ether. My near-death experience got his attention and now he's asked me if I feel up to helping him more or if he should ask Isami to assist him for the time being. I was a little relieved to be able to foist him off on our resident mystic. I'll want in on things again soon, but...crossing to the Cold Side is not a good way to start. I'll focus on my boys and their ridiculous escape attempts.  
...


	94. Day 251, March 23rd

Yesterday, an extremely discouraging meeting in the basement where Jack officially admitted that we can't escape our prison by prying at the bars, then agreed that Jim's solution may be the only viable one. Jim believes that we can only get out of here by taking away Puppy's reason for holding us. I'm not so sure it'll work, so I started gearing up to get back into the game--the only PROVEN way of getting out alive.  
Today, a surprise visit from Bill. I was sorting through my first aid supplies and politely pretending that curling up in the armchair in my room to read is actually a thing Lance does that totally has nothing to do with Jim deciding I need a babysitter, when suddenly a knock at my door surprised us both. The leader of the New Underground announced himself with the smell of cigarettes that hit me before I even opened the door....he must be stressed if he's smoking THAT much, and I wonder how he even gets his hands on that much tobacco. Surely he's not passing that many tests....  
Oh. Sorry. What he wanted was to search the library again. He said that reviewing the evidence even for the hundredth time can turn up new information.  
Which is true. So we went. And we forced the door of that fateful closet that got Jack into so much trouble. Turns out it was stuffed full of old case files. Bill found a picture of Ryan, looking like it was taken about a decade ago. Rather than sift through the dust and grime--which I'm sure he'll find a way to make ME do later--Bill decided to confront Ryan directly to try to find out what sort of case his picture was attached to.  
Ryan, of course, told us everything and wrapped up the mystery with a pretty little ribbon. Right?  
Yeah, I'm going to be searching for more "clues" about Ryan's past until my blood is all gone. Ugh.  
...


	95. Day 252, March 24th

Sure enough, he's got me combing the hallways and soon he'll have the bright idea of crawling into the kitchen cabinets or something. I might go hide in the conservatory...after all, I do need that ninth key. Jim might finally have his brother more or less on his side for his find-the-puppeteer-and-heal-him-with-sage-doctorly-wisdom plan, but I have less faith in the Fairwoods than ever before.  
I mean, I love them, but damn. Sometimes I wish they'd realize how much danger they're putting everyone in by fighting instead of just playing the game. I don't like it. Really I don't. But if the combined skills and intelligence of all the rats and ravens in this awful drafty shithole can't win Puppy's game, then....  
Never mind. I'm thinking like Alice. That's a road I don't want to take.

Ah, the bedroom. The 'least footworn room.' I have no idea what I'm looking for, but Bill is certain we'll find it there. Well, if I get too tired I'll just go tell Jim I'm feeling depressed and he'll probably march me straight to bed------  
Did not need to go there.  
...


	96. Day 253, March 25th

Isami came to see me today. She invited me to come with her to search the conservatory for that book she needed to establish a connection between Alastriona and that king she cursed forever ago. I got the impression that she's worried about me.  
I'm tired of people being worried about me. It was nice for a change of pace but I'm over that now and I'd like things to go back to normal.  
Or...uh...the previous level of abnormal.  
So I told her I actually have business of my own in that room and asked her if she'd mind taking on Leonard's issues while I combined my shit with her shit to knock it all out at once. It's the way I used to operate before I basically burnt out and dropped out of the game, so she looked pretty relieved when she took me up on it. As an added bonus, I think she told Jim I'm getting better because I managed several tests on my own before he called me out to help him with his daily coddling of all the whiners who can't do their own first-aid.  
The tests in the conservatory are hard, but the room is so beautiful and peaceful even though it's obviously been neglected for a long time. It sort of went wild and I like that. So I was in a good enough mood to not call Jim out on the fact that he's never needed my help with his afternoon clinic before. Instead I asked him if he was really so madly in love with me that he required my presence at his side daily, and threatened to leave him for Ryan if he didn't put out soon.  
Hey, maybe if I'm lucky he'll call my bluff. Wink wink.  
...


	97. Day 256, March 28th

Leonard's keeping Isami busy. He made a lot of those paper flowers for Marie, apparently. And he suffered a terrible blow when she left to stay with her uncle. It's sounding more and more like a Hollywood romance. Ugh.  
...


	98. Day 257, March 29th

The connection between Alastriona and the cursed king, Willem's father. I'm not clear on it because everyone is more focused on being dramatic than on conveying precise information. But apparently, Alastriona set something up and Willem set it off with his death curse. If Isami's reaction is anything to go by, the Maiden's curse is a real doozie--not only Willem and his father, but their whole family line and Alastriona's too are cursed. It seems there's a connection to Leonard too, but I'm not sure what....I guess I'll just have to keep working with Isami on it, even though Bill keeps sort of nagging me to help him with these old case files and photos and I still need to find the cache in the conservatory before Chester gets to it.  
...


	99. Day 259, March 31st

I saw an interesting poster in the living room this afternoon. Alice has a little show planned for us. Everyone's intrigued. I have to admit I am too. I think I'll take today off and go see the show with freshly-rested eyes...and reflexes.  
Yes, reflexes. That bitch be crazy and I am an Undergrounder who everyone believes defected from the Followers. I intend to be ready to dodge.

Wow!  
No, that's a sincere wow. It was a hell of a show--an honest-to-god fireshow in the library. Alice is good.  
It was funny actually. I got there after most of the others. But since the Fairwoods are still kind of in mother-hen mode regarding me, they didn't protest me wedging in next to them in the front row. Insert smirky-face here. After the show started, though, the front row got a WHOLE lot less crowded. She was fucking with us, getting very close to the audience with her fire. Jack and Chester and I were the only ones who refused to step back...except Ryan. So she whipped the flaming fan like two inches from his face and he TOTALLY FLINCHED.  
Not gonna lie, I cheered. Chester was standing closer to Ryan than I was, though, and I swear he looked a little disturbed. That weaselly little shit isn't the type to be concerned that our resident cult-leader might scorch off Ryan's face, so what's the deal there? I might have to ask him, if I can get him alone.  
...


	100. Day 260, April 1st

I have some very appropriate news for today.  
Yes. Today, April First, the day of pranks and hilarity...Ryan managed to get his stupid ass roofied.  
But let me tell you the story. Once upon a time, Isami caught me right after Jim's evening clinic and asked me to watch the doors on the ground floor. I gather Ryan wanted her to do it for some reason, but Leonard has had her searching for origami flowers or something like that, to help him remember his past (which for the record, I still think is a massively terrible idea, but who ever listens to me?), so it fell to me to keep our wayward housemates out of the halls for a while.  
This I did willingly, since I was just glad to not be dealing with Leonard's long-dead romantic drama. So I had a front-row seat when Isami came back and got worried about Ryan not turning up yet. She went out after him and...well...I do kind of feel bad in retrospect for not going with her, but the sight of her lugging a half-unconscious Ryan down the hall to the living room was fucking PRICELESS. First off, seeing that man stagger along like a blackout drunk when he's normally more graceful than catwoman HELL YES I JUST MADE THAT COMPARISON was hilarious, and secondly he's way bigger than her so it was like watching some little kid trying to drag Daddy home from the bar.  
Not gonna lie. Laughing too hard to help her carry him OR express proper concern over his health. Luckily Jim said it was just the sleeping draught he gave to me for Ryan's trap forever ago and Ryan's going to be fine, otherwise I'd feel like an ass for laughing.  
He'll be out cold all night. Oh man, he's gonna be so pissed when he wakes up. I can't wait.  
...


End file.
